#I never had to sneak away with anyone ever in my life so my entire concept for secret dating aus is just

[yandere-romanticaa]

⚘ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

m. - "forevermore" typically refers to something that lasts for an indefinite amount of time or for eternity. it implies a sense of permanence or lastingness.

You've ran away from your husband, the 11th Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia himself. However, have you truly escaped his grasp?

yandere! tartaglia x fem! reader.

The shimmering rays of bright morning sunlight made the living room come to life as you sat in a classic wooden chair, a steaming cup of tea in your hand. It burned your fingers ever so slightly but you could not be bothered to remove them from the cup.

The pain made you not focus on the massive bouquet of flowers which were placed on your pretty white table.

From the corner of your vision, you could see the card which clung onto the fresh bunch of blooms, the handwriting on it disgustingly elaborate but oh so familiar.

"Blood red roses." The card said.

"I always knew that you fancied roses, and I couldn't resist to get you these specific ones when I saw you looking at them."

Bastard. How he had managed to track you all the way to Mondstatd was beyond your comprehension, but in hindsight, you really should have known better. The Fatui could sneak in anywhere they damn well pleased, be it the hustle and bustle of the city of Mondstatd, to the dirty cracks of the Chasm.

It was only natural that the many agents which were stationed in the city would start to talk upon seeing the wife of a Lord Harbinger so far from home.

You concealed yourself at first, obviously. Most unfortunately, word started to spread like wildfire that you had fled in the dead of night, never to be seen by anyone. And, due to the fact that your husband did not possess a single shred of decency in his body, he proudly showed you off wherever he could.

Just the mere thought of the memory made you shudder.

Your good husband was - is - a wealthy man. He made sure to spoil you in the finest of silks known to man and the endless sea of jewelry which was sent your way, if it were to be sold, could feed an entire army.

Although, he was always particular about your arms. He didn't like seeing anything on them except for the, surprisingly, simple wedding ring he got you.

It was a promise, he had told you.

His eternal promise to you, until the end of time. He would love you, in sickness and in health, there was no force in the universe that could separate him from you.

In a way, he was keeping his promise. He made the trip from the homeland straight to the City of Freedom all on his own.

... He probably didn't even need to hear the reports from anyone of your whereabouts. Knowing him, he tracked you down all on his own, using nothing but his wit and sharp senses.

He was a terrifying man. A man you ought to stay away from, a man who had the blood of countless innocent people on his hand. And yet, those same hands would keep you warm during the cold winter, his soft and pale lips would pepper your body with gentle kisses, making you feel as if you were the most beautiful woman in the universe.

Archons, he'd whisper to himself, his breath hot on your neck, making you blush. He would just say whatever came to mind, completely lost in his blind passion.

I want no one else but you - You are my everything - I will make you mine -

Frankly, you did not know how to feel. In those private moments he was less a man and more a lovesick little fool. He could not keep his paws off you, even if he wanted to. As the evening would go on the kisses would evolve into something more, something primal, carnal even. Tongue and teeth would mesh together, leaving a thick string of saliva between him and you, to which he would always let out that darling boyish laugh of his.

You loathed the fact that in those moments, he truly was ethereal, no different than a star.

What made your skin crawl was the effect his touch had on your mind and body. He became something akin to a drug, even now as you felt the sweetness of freedom with your own two hands you still felt the urge to hold something tight at night because your husband had spoiled you rotten with his presence.

Finally, you turned to look at the flowers as the horrible realization dawned on you - you loved him. You loved that man and it was putrid.

You cannot go back. You would not go back to him.

Jumping off a building would be a smarter thing to do.

As you pondered on and on about your predicament, you failed to notice the lingering shadow in your hallway. Deep blue eyes monitored you like a hawk as he toyed with a switchblade he had in his pocket. What should he do with you? He was furious, naturally. You were the last person in the world he wanted discord with. You broke his heart a little when you left and the fact that you didn't even care about his feelings only added insult to injury.

Even so, he could not help but to feel overjoyed by the fact that you hadn't thrown out his gift. He was half expecting you to burn whatever he sent you to the ground, not to mournfully contemplate in deep thought like this.

That was how he knew you loved him. It was crooked and wrong, but he had you. He had you and you didn't even know it. He'd bring down the heavens themselves if it meant that you could feel a fraction of the love he held for you. His lips curled into a sly grin but his heart pounded like clockwork in his chest. This waiting game was so horrible.

But the hunter in him couldn't resist, cornering you like this was just in his nature.

Victory was so close, he could practically taste it. Soon enough, his wife would be in his arms, weeping and apologizing and he would soothe her, like a good husband ought to. Yes, that was how this scenario would play out.

He was too clever to let it happen any other way.

It would be just him and you, perhaps even with a bundle of joy if the Tsaritsa blessed him. Even so, with you here, he had everything he could ever dream of.

Him and you, against the world, standing by each other's side, forevermore.

💋 TAGLIST: @genshinarchives, @saturnalya @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @alatusprinz @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @lakxcpsta @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @cc-6789, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149

This fic was born out of my own pure passion and love for Tartaglia, apologies for the Cringe™ I put you all through.

[wonryllis]

daddy issues, my little girl (m) | park jongseong.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹,

preview. you had always had daddy issues, for as long as you could remember. so when jay came along with his caring nature, how could you possibly keep your feelings at bay? not to forget, your roses of love have wilted long before you even knew what love meant but jay, he’s here at your doorstep with a watering can. will you be able to refuse?

or where, new neighbor dr jay park is asked to babysit you over the week. ironically the only man you have ever had a crush on. you are so determined to put aside the feelings but jay makes things so much harder. he is way too sweet and caring and you are way too pessimistic and insecure. how is it going to work with you gravitating towards him in inadvertence and jay welcoming your presence with candor radiance? especially with all of your buried issues coming to life more than ever. false hopes and reserved secrets, reluctant truths and feelings that linger deep. he is right there, two doors away to reach. so why is it that love still feels so far?

meet the cast. daddy park jongseong(jay) with his doll fem!reader

genre. neighbour to lovers, age gap (like 7 years), romance, SMUT MDNI!!, comfort angst, fluff, happy ending, doctor(might change that)!jay with his precious girl. jay literally always at his girl's beck and call, he cares about you a lottttt trope. the "i know you can do it, but let me do it for you" trope. kinda ddlg concept idk? he's like your pillar, comfort person and just everything you have ever needed. practically your dream man come to life. subject to additions later on.

word count. 18-19k so far, est around 35k revamp + second installment.

warnings. DARK THEMES: hints of: daddy issues, attachment anxiety, inferiority complex, abandonment issues, depression, childhood emotional neglect, philophobia, insomnia, social anxiety, hints at emotional/psychological abuse, gaslighting, hints at being suicidal, people pleaser syndrome, mommy issues, thantophobia, atelophobia, atychiphobia, pistanthrophobia, avoidant personality disorder, body dysmorphia. more could be added on release and nsfw warnings will be mentioned in full fic.

theme song. daddy issues by the neighborhood and future by red velvet. on the side you can listen to: love letter by bolbbalgan4, adore you by harry styles, pacify her by melanie martinez, cool kids by echosmith, your existence by wonstein, teenage dreams by katy perry ..

RELEASING. TBD, progress ! 57%

"i’m home!” slipping off your converse, you put the pair inside the shoe cabinet near the entrance and close the wooden door in a sigh before trudging in. the lights in the living room are dimmed, something your parents would never do. it catches you a tad bit off guard but nevertheless you try not to think too much. considering the silence surrounding you they most definitely are out for work and as usual forgot to turn off the lights. with cautious steps you walk futher inside, with all intention to sneak in a pack of chips from the kitchen like a thief even though at this point you’ve practically come to the conclusion you’re home alone, but one can never be too careful.

a cat like shriek leaves you when your eyes land on the back of a figure sitting on the couch, your phone almost slipping through the grasp of your fingers as your eyes widen in shock. startled, your heart more or less stopping in a screeching brake for a split second.

the man visibly flinches at the sound of your voice,“who are you?!-” standing up and turning around to face you,“jay?”

“god y/n, you’re gonna make me deaf,” he complains, face contorting into a tender, teasing expression; a small smile gracing his lips as he walks around the couch and leans against the top of the backrest. you watch as he looks at you, so softly that it makes you wonder, has anyone ever in your entire life looked at you like that? a look radiating such gentleness. maybe not, not until now that is.

“you got home early today, i thought you’d be out for two more hours?” his brows raise in a questioning manner as his gaze shifts to go over the time showing on your living room clock.

“uh, well i was working on a project the last few days but i finished it yesterday so,” you speak unsure if you should even be telling him this instead of asking what he’s doing in here.

“oh okay, that’s good,” taking off his overcoat he walks into the kitchen, folding up his dress shirt’s sleeves on the way,“what do you want for lunch then? do you want to eat takeout? or should i cook you something? you must be hungry,” he takes out a bottle of cold water from the fridge and pours in a glass for you, sliding the cup on the countertop towards you as you approach the space in hesitant and confused steps.

his questions dumbfound you, leaving your brain at a loss, still dazed from his presence before you,“what? why are you asking me that? and what are you doing in my house?” you ask, looking completely clueless when jay turns to look at you expecting it to be some kind of a sarcastic remark. but the lost look in your eyes has him surrendering even if it does turn out to be some joke.

“taking care of you,” jay smiles, straightening his posture in an upright position and moving closer to the counter across which you stand,“technically, babysitting,”

“babysitting? me? but,” it baffles you, is this some prank or are you supposed to know something you don’t? your mind’s mechanical gears slow down, friction arising in between them. you don’t remember anything regarding or relating to the term babysitting. there’s no way he’s serious.. right?

“doll, didn’t your parents tell you they’re gonna be out on a business trip for a week? they asked me to look after you while they’re gone,” what.

yes these past few days when you couldn’t catch a hidden, one-sided glimpse of him in the elevator you did feel weird. and you definitely did subconsciously wish to run across him again, even though you were on a mission to avoid him, but this; this is not what you would’ve liked, this is not what you wanted. this is far from what you can handle, what your messed up self can accept.

“no?” the look on your face has jay almost spilling a laugh, the way your features contort to a whiny crying expression. how cute. he thinks.

“that’s okay, now you know,” trying to imitate you, he scrushes up his nose in a slight pout, reaching out to pat your head twice. and there goes your heart. you never thought you’d like head pats this much, you only remember getting them twice from your father but it felt different. it used to annoy you because he would mess up your hair but the way jay caressed your head it felt you had accomplished something, so gentle and careful yet still close to a ruffle.

taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @lheebra @boyfhee @defnotfertilizedtoesw @brownsugarbaybee @skylaly @sparklovespink @luvyouchuu @ming-h0e @cha0thicpisces @butterflywonie @kgneptun @haechansbbg @m3chigo @wonsbaer @woncine @eneiyri @siyen @wonyoungsvirus @heesquared @enhafim22 @velvtcherie @ineedsomezzz @simjyunnie @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @wonkifangirl @sweetwonieee @luvnicho @fakeuwus @sunpov @notevenheretbh1 @kaykay11sworld @saurxcream @shawnyle @monstaxdirtywonk @wannieepisod @woozixo @sophi-ee @rikiwaify-blog @fluerz @iselltulips @belowbun @yunjinsbbg @enhasnuggles @enhaswirlds @enhastolemyheart @jooniesbears-blog

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Hiii I’m coming over here to request from youuu >:)

Would you be willing to do some headcanons for an extroverted!Anakin x shy!reader pretty please?

Ilysm babes, have a good dayyy <33

EXTROVERT!ANAKIN X SHY!READER HEADCANONS

Author's note: sorry my dearest pookie you had to wait so long. I did not forget about you :)

TW: public sex

Extrovert!Anakin who basically found you, started to like you, and eventually 'adopted' you' (aka you started dating)

Extrovert!Anakin who had never dared himself to cross your barriers - if you didn't feel like going outside, he stayed with you (if you wanted him to), if you wanted to go somewhere, he went with you (if you wanted him along with you)

Extrovert!Anakin who was sygnifically higher than you, which made you feel less nervous in public. Which was more attractive as well

Extrovert!Anakin who thrives in social situations. He’s charming, bold, and effortlessly the center of attention wherever he goes. Meanwhile, you’re content observing from the sidelines, preferring quiet moments and small groups.

Extrovert!Anakin who becomes protective of your shyness. If anyone makes you feel uncomfortable, he’s quick to step in with that intimidating side of him. He’s not afraid to throw a warning glare if someone is being too forward or pushy.

Extrovert!Anakin who, again, absolutely adores being social (feels low and sad when he's not being social - it's like a need in his life he can't live without), so he often brings you into his friend group, introducing you with pride, his arm around you like he’s keeping you safe.

He knows being the center of attention isn’t your favorite, so he’ll make sure to handle the conversations and steer any much-not-needed attention away from you if you seem to be uncomfortable.

Extrovert!Anakin who's clingy. The second you’re in a more private spot, he’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close, and giving you that cute smile. If you’re ever feeling nervous, he’ll just hold you and whisper sweet, goofy things to make you laugh.

He’s not shy about PDA either. You’re constantly holding hands, and he loves sneaking little kisses on your cheek or forehead, making sure you always feel loved and cherished like you deserve to be.

Extrovert!Anakin who's big on helping you grow out of your shell, but he always does it at your pace. He’ll cheer you on with every little step, whether it’s speaking up more or trying something new. He’s your biggest hype man, telling you how proud he is and how amazing you’re doing.

If he notices you getting a little more talkative or comfortable in a situation, he’s over the moon, with that adorable, proud-boyfriend smile that screams love

Extrovert!Anakin who adores the blush that rises to your cheeks when he says something flirtatious or when he’s being openly affectionate in public. He’ll lean in close, whispering something that makes your heart race, just to cherish your shocked, shy expression.

Extrovert!Anakin who, as loud and social as he can be, he often finds that you are his calm. When he’s tired of the chaos and all the things in the words, your body seems to be the very perfect spot to curl to

Extrovert!Anakin who is as clingy as coala, (mostly when you two are alone);

It’s late, and you’re trying to finish a book you’d been reading all week, yet Anakin has other plans. He practically melts against you, wrapping himself around you with a sigh - head nestled in the crook of your neck.

“Can’t you just put that down?” he murmurs, his voice soft and full of that irresistible warmth. “I’ve been waiting all day to hold you like this.”

You laugh, but it’s no use—his arms tighten around you, his legs tangled with yours, practically holding you hostage in the most loving way possible. His eyes are closed, a faint smile playing on his lips as he now buries his face in your shoulder, breathing you in like you’re his entire world.

“Anakin…” you begin, but he only mumbles something sleepy and contented, pulling you even closer. "I'm trying to read.."

“I know,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “But it's so comfortable here..just wanna cuddle"

Extrovert!Anakin who loves to play with your hair. Twirling the strands of it around his slim, long fingers, tucking them behind your ear (which makes you blush as well) or just try to make a very clumsy braid because he is 'bored'

Extrovert!Anakin who often takes you to picnic dates;

Anakin’s fingers interlace with yours as he leads you through the twilight, a woven basket swinging from his other arm. He glances back, his eyes glinting with a childlike excitement that never fails to make you smile.

“I found the perfect spot,” he says, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. “Just under a grand old tree that week ago this couple stole us"

And he’s right. Minutes later, you’re nestled on a blanket beside him, under the perfect shadow from the tree. Anakin has this way of making even the simplest things feel extraordinary. He pulls out treats he insisted on making himself (though you both know the pastries from park's markets are always there as backup). And what's even adorable and incredibly sweet, is his sheepish smile when he takes out more advanced food - cookies, muffins, always saying "well, that actually I made with my mom"

Halfway through, he suddenly picks up a daisy from beside the blanket and tucks it gently behind your ear. “There,” he murmurs, admiring you with an awestruck gaze, like you’re a vision, a muse, a pure sun in the sky full of dark clouds. He’s always like this, brimming with love as if you're his entire world and meaning of existence

Extrovert!Anakin who made love to you in public toilet;

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, “my sweet, shy girl… who’d ever guess you’d let me take you here, like this?”

You bite back a moan, your body aching with each deep thrust he made. “Feels so good, Ani…”

He grins, before his hand slides up, covering your mouth to muffle your moans. “Shh… you wouldn’t want someone to hear, would you?” he breathes, eyes dark and gleaming as he watches your reaction. His hips snap harder against yours, making you tremble beneath him. “I know you love this, though,” he teases “The shy, good girl everyone knows… so needy for me here, in this dirty, little bathroom…”

You gasp against his hand, your eyes closing as he angles himself deeper, making your whole body arch up to meet him.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he moans himself, eyes shutting close from too intense feeling from your core. “Take every inch of me.” His other arm moves to hold you steady, fingers digging into your hip to guide your clumsy movements to meet his more precise ones. Yet still, he drives you crazy - he’s relentless, the thrusts he makes against your fluttering, clenching core a perfect mix of rough and tender, each one driving you closer and closer to the final edge. “Such a good girl,” he whimpers to your ear

“What would they say,” he whispers against your ear, “if they knew how much you were loving this? Little Miss Shy, moaning my name in public bathroom, with no care in the world" he angles his hips to hit that sweet spot that leaves you gasping. “There it is… that’s what my sweet girl likes, isn’t it?” he watches as your head falls back, completely under his spell. “Gonna fill you up, love.. Think you can be quiet for me now?”

Extrovert!Anakin who's deeply observant and knows how to comfort you without you even saying a word. If you’re overwhelmed at a party, he’ll instantly lead you outside for a breather, holding your hand and letting you decompress in his arms.

Anakin has a sixth sense for your moods and will check in constantly. “Hey, you doing okay?” he’ll ask, leaning in with those big, concerned eyes, ready to support you in any way.

Extrovert!Anakin who, in public, will love doing cute little things like running up behind you, picking you up in a surprise hug, or brushing his fingers across your shoulder to make you laugh. It’s all about making you feel seen and adored, even if you’re naturally shy.

He’s so proud to have you by his side that he’ll introduce you to literally everyone. When you’re too shy to talk, he’ll just laugh and carry the conversation, making it feel effortless for you.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless

[moonlightisdancing]

Like A Virgin/ j.t.k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI practically smut w no plot, mentions arguing/drinking/parental issues, sneaking out, consumption of weed, pure awkwardness, some fluff, oral sex (m+f receiving), loss of virginity (m+f), penetrative unprotected sex

as always please lmk if anything’s missed

inspired by my dear nick & this song

a/n: sorry if this is kinda cheesy/short/whatever… just needed to write a virgin jake fic

——————🌸——————

“Yeah, maybe we can hang out this summer!”

Those were the last words you’d hear from Jake Kiszka after graduation as he scribbled his phone number and a smiley face next to his picture in your yearbook. He must have known you had a small crush on him that may or may not have developed during senior year calculus after some group work.

His number was saved to your contacts that day but it wasn’t until August came around before you ever texted him, but he wasn’t your first thought. You knew he lived relatively close to you, one block to the left and over the train tracks, all the way at the end of the street. Meanwhile, you only lived a block away from your best and really only friend, Kiera, so she’s who you’d spend most your time with.

Today has been the longest day of your life. A screaming match with your mom over the gap year you decided on last minute, your dad drinking again, an entire summer of pent up anger bouncing around the walls of your home had finally bursted at the seams. You spent all night crying, your mind traveling to the darkest of places. It just felt like you needed a hug, for someone to hold you and tell you it would all be okay.

“Hello?”

It took five rings before Kiera answered her phone. In her defense it was roughly two in the morning and you should have been asleep, too.

“Kiera? I-I could really use your company if you can.” The sobbing hadn’t stopped, the words barely coming out.

“Y/n… My parents won’t let me out this late, you know that.”

“Even if I walk there? I-Kiera, I just need a hug or a blunt, something. And I don’t know anyone else.”

“Well, you know Jake, and his mom’s much nicer than mine.” She sounded irritated but you knew she was trying her best to be patient.

“I haven't talked to him since grad, I can’t just hit him up.”

“Just text him? He posted on Snapchat like fifteen minutes ago and he lives right there.”

“Okay, okay, fine. But what if he thinks-”

“Just do it and let me know, okay? I love you, good night.” She hung up before you could even respond.

Breathe, Y/n, it’s fine, everything is fine.

You: Heyyy Jake it’s Y/n

Jake K: Hey stranger, what’s up?

You: So super awkward, but I’m in desperate need of a blunt and a hug

Jake K: Done and done. Remember where I live?

You: Yeah

Jake K: Come on by, porch lights on

How could you forget where he lived? Sure, you went once for Jake and Josh’s graduation party, but after learning how close your highschool crush lived to you, you’d never forget. You fixed your hair in the bathroom and splashed your face with cool water in attempts to bring down your swollen red eyes. A little bit of deodorant and some perfume would be the finishing touches before returning to your room. You couldn’t leave through the front door, the dogs would bark and it would add one more thing to the list of arguments yet to be had. It doesn’t matter you’re eighteen, as long as you lived under your parent’s roof, it was their rules. You opened your window and climbed out, using the junction box outside your window for leverage.

It takes eleven minutes to walk from your house to Jake’s, where he’s already standing on his front porch waiting for you. He’s in basketball shorts, slip on Vans and a pullover hoodie, and somehow he still looks good as ever. You weren’t half way up his driveway before he began walking towards you with his arms wide open. At graduation he only offered an awkward side hug, so this sure was new to say the least. Jake wraps both his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. You inhale his scent, he just smells like home. Not yours, most likely his, but home with a hint of worn off cologne. Your heart begins racing a lot faster than you want to admit as he holds you until you let go.

“Shall we?” He asks in a deep silly voice as he leads you through the gate to his backyard. There was a firepit in the middle of some chairs and a cute little picnic table off to the side. You follow him towards the mahogany stained wood and sit across from him. The only light was that of the full moon washing over everything in a blue tint.

“Do you know how to roll?” Jake asks as he empties the contents of his pockets on the table.

“Uh-uh.” You shook your head.

“S’okay, I can show you.” Jake turns the flashlight from his phone on, handing it to you to hold. He walks you through the process, admittedly you paid more attention to the way his fingers moved than the actual task itself.

You watch as his tongue parts his lips and licks across the blunt, sealing the weed inside. Jake reaches for his phone, his fingers brushing gently against your knuckles. The two of you stand awkwardly from the table, the moonlight illuminating Jake’s soft features.

“C’mere, I know a spot.” He holds his empty hand out towards you and waits until you place your palm in his. Jake guides you to the side of his house and down a tiny path that leads to a creek. There resides an old metal bench that Jake directs you towards. He places the blunt between his plush pink lips and brings the lighter to the end, the red hot cherry casting a golden hue against his cheek bones. A couple silent puff, puff, passes happen before you speak.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text you sooner. Life’s just been kinda…” You trailed off.

“Hey, don’t apologize,” He shifts to face you, bringing his one leg up. “We’re here now, that’s what matters.”

More silence occured as the blunt was worked down to nothing, but the silence was comfortable. You didn’t want to talk about your problems and ruin the safe bubble that naturally surrounded Jake’s existence, opting to ask him about his plans instead.

“So, is the band doing good or are you gonna go to college?” You ask, matching his stance by turning to face him.

“Band’s going places, I think. I dunno, gotta wait for Sammy and Danny to finish school, then we’ll really know. You?”

“Taking a gap year, but who knows? Maybe I could be some rockstar’s girlfriend.” Sheesh, the weed had you feeling ballsy.

“Yeah, maybe.”

The comfortable silence had now grown awkward as you struggled to even look in Jake’s direction.

“You should hear me play some time. I-I mean if you wanted to I can right now.” Jake stumbles over his words, presumably a mix of anxiousness and marijuana.

“Sure, yeah, that sounds good.” You nod and stand at the same time Jake does, taking his hand once again as he held it out for you. His palms feel warm and clammy, usually you’d be off put but his nervousness is endearing.

He opens the little side door to the garage and flicks on the light. It smells very garage-y, the whirring of the fluorescent lights really tying it together. He walks to the opposite side and grabs his acoustic guitar before suggesting you sit on the couch next to him.

“We’ve been working on this one for a little bit, it’s called Flower Power.”

He plays chords to a song you hadn’t heard, singing chunks of lyrics alike. It was a beautiful song nonetheless, maybe even one you’d listen to on your own accord.

“Wow, she must be a lucky girl.”

“Think so? Why’s that?” Jake giggled as he discarded his guitar. He flicked on a lava lamp before shutting the flourecent light off and returning awfully close beside you.

“Are you kidding me? If someone wrote that about me, said that to me?! I think every girl wants to be loved that way.”

“Yeah?” He laughed again, shaking his head.

“Yes!”

“And what if I told you someone did?”

“What?” Your cheeks flamed red, matching the color of the lamp beside you.

“That’s your song, Y/n.” Jake reaches his hand out to yours again for the third time tonight, this time interlocking his fingers with yours.

“Mine?”

Jake nodded before some force pulled the two of you together, your lips crashing into his. After months of wondering what he tasted like, the flavor of weed and spearmint on his lips was one you’d never forget. The kissing grew quickly heated as Jake’s hands found purchase on your hips, his knee planted between yours as he hovered over you. You found yourself rutting your hips up against his as he did the same, the feeling of his hardening length against your clothed center driving you places you’d never been. The kissing led to shirts being removed, ultimately leaving you in your bra and underwear, Jake in his shorts.

“What d’ya wanna do?” He whispered between kisses, his hands migrating to your breasts.

“Um, not sure… I’ve never-”

“No, me either, it’s okay.”

“I can- do you want head?”

“You okay with that?”

“Yeah,”

Jake sat beside you again as you stood between his legs, lowering yourself to your knees. You’d never given head before, or done anything along these lines. Your body filled with an unfamiliar sensation as you progressed, dipping your fingers past the waistband of his shorts and boxers. His length sprung straight up and your eyes widened at the sheer size of him. Never would you have thought he’d pack so much heat. You gently wrap one hand around the base of his cock, slowly stroking his length as you work your lips over his blushed tip. You watched a few videos here and there to sort of have a general idea, trying to remember anything from those as you bobbed your head up and down. Jake’s hands cupped either side of your face as he moaned and whined before grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

“Is this okay?”

“Mhm.” You hummed with him in your mouth, his dick twitching in response.

“Can I give you head?” He asks, lifting you from his length. You nod eagerly as Jake laid you down on the sofa, kicking off his shorts and boxers. He kisses up the inside of your thighs before hovering over your center. You’re embarrassed by the polka dot cotton panties you wore, but he doesn’t seem to care as he tucks his fingers into the elastic waist. He looks up at you and waits for approval before pulling them down your thighs, tossing them amongst his.

It’s a matter of seconds before his tongue begins exploring you alongside his fingers. Jake’s mouth marries perfectly against your aching bud as he switches between flicking his tongue and sucking. His fingers tease your entrance as he finally pushes a finger in, his mouth continuing its task. You watch him grind his hips against the cushions, his groans growing louder the faster his mouth and fingers move.

“Jake?” You whine, writhing under his touch.

“Hm?” He pulls away, staring at you with his soaked chin and lips.

“Do you wanna have sex?” Bold. The weed was giving you all the courage you could ask for.

“I don’t know where there’s a condom.” He kneels on the cushions in front of you, stroking his length.

“You don’t have one like in your wallet?”

“Why would- I’m a virgin.”

“Right, sorry.” It was kind of implied earlier, but hearing the words leave his mouth felt foreign. It truly astounded you that he was a virgin. People said he got around a lot, it was one of the reasons you felt you had no chance.

“Maybe just the tip? Just to feel?” He shrugged, placing his hands on your knees.

“Yeah… But what if it feels too good? And we wanna keep going?”

“Pull out?”

You knew that was almost always a bad idea, but you let yourself think with the wrong head as you agreed to the idea. Jake pushes your knees apart and slowly brings his hips forward, the pillowy head of his cock rubbing against you. You reach a hand down and situate him at your entrance, bringing your legs up to ease him in. Jake places his hands against the armrest of the couch above your head, his chest hovering over your face as he slowly introduces his length.

“More.” You begged through a breathy moan, wincing as he did exactly as you asked. Jake feeds his entire length inside, his thighs flush against yours as you both revel in the feeling.

“Fuck, this is so… You feel so good.” Jake places a kiss on the top of your head before trailing his mouth down to yours.

The pain of his thick cock stretching your tight pussy quickly subsides as he begins slowly moving his hips back and forth, his lacking rhythm quickly being found. His lips remain on yours, only pulling away from time to time to check if you were okay. Your nails find a home digging into his back each time his hips crashes into yours. With each thrust came the familiar warmth washing over your body causing you to tighten around Jake.

“Are you close?”

“Yeah,” You respond, hardly able to breathe.

“Suck for me, baby.” Jake brings his middle and index finger to your lips, pushing them into your mouth. After you coat his digits with your saliva, Jake brings them to your clit, rubbing circles over your bud. That only brings you closer to your orgasm, one that feels more powerful than any other. The pleasure that rips through you simply could never be replicated by your own fingers again.

“Jake, fuck, mm,” Your moans begin to sound like cries as your body shakes beneath his.

“S’okay, I got you, pretty girl.” He brings his hand back up, wrapping his arms behind your back as he hugs you to his chest. “I’m gonna cum, too.” Jake removes himself from your aching pussy, resting his cock on your belly as he lowers himself and begins thrusting again. It takes seconds for his hot release to paint your skin, being spread by his weight against yours.

“So do you wanna be a rockstar’s girlfriend?” He asks kissing up and down your neck, occasionally sucking on your sensitive skin.

“I would love to.”

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐖𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐌𝐞? [𝐀𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairings: older brother!Alhaitham x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, modern AU, incest, loss of virginity, size kink, cockwarming, creampie.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. Tommee Profitt feat. Jung Youth - Who's Gonna Stop Me

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

Just let me be reborn as the younger sister of this divine man (っ˘ω˘ς )

art: @eriimyon

You've never even thought about the fact that girls your age should be interested in guys. Every time you heard your friends enthusiastically discussing the looks of your classmates, you felt so far away from it. Your gaze has never clung to men passing by, and your heart has never even been touched by sympathy for anyone. That's how it was until it came to your brother.

«Your brother is so sexy! Does he have a girlfriend?»

Is it true? Perhaps… the only man you've ever looked at has always been him. Since childhood, you have secretly admired the success of your older brother, not missing the opportunity to ask him to pull you up in your studies when he had a free minute. It could hardly be said that Alhaitham enjoyed spending time with you when you were a child. This man is too difficult to understand. This stoically indifferent expression on his face, the cold gazes of emerald eyes and a monotonous low voice are what have accompanied you since birth.

As soon as Alhaitham saw tears welling up in your innocent eyes, he instantly silently left your room, before getting a clear answer who made you cry. You didn't know where he went or what he was doing, but any of your problems were solved the very next day, which gave rise to this feeling of unconditional security when you looked at his tall figure and heard these quiet sighs and banal phrases uttered in a quiet indifferent tone only to dismiss your obsessive questions about what suddenly happened to the classmates who bullied you. A certain modesty of your older brother has planted in your heart the belief that, no matter how distant Alhaitham may seem, he cares about you in his own way and will never allow his little sister to cope with difficulties alone, even if you'll hardly ever be able to hear words of support from him.

And now, ten years later, you still look at Alhaitham with unspoken gratitude and adoration, despite the fact that his presence in your life is barely noticeable. You always sneak a peek into your brother's room when he's not at home, carefully examining the few things he left on the table. Everything that belongs to Alhaitham always arouses your genuine interest, although the entire contents of his room, perhaps, can be classified as essential items and mountains of books filling the shelves of tall cabinets. Every time your fingers slide over the numerous book spines, and your eyes memorize several titles in order to secretly read them. Maybe this way you can get closer to him — that's what you always thought.

But still, is your obsession with him really normal? This question has been in your head since the image of Alhaitham began to pop up in your thoughts more often when you were alone with yourself. Loving your older brother is absolutely normal, isn't it? And remembering how you once saw Alhaitham tired after work, throwing off his shirt and exposing his muscular back and broad shoulders in his room while you were passing by the ajar door is also normal. You only had a moment to capture in your memory the elastic muscles of his chest and the V-shaped line of his abs disappearing behind his lowered trousers, but it was more than enough to keep this image in your thoughts for several weeks.

«Your brother is so sexy...»

Is this the real reason why a blush now sticks to your cheeks when your eyes meet Alhaitham's gaze? Is this the reason why you're touching yourself so obscenely for the first time, replaying over and over in your memory what you probably shouldn't have seen? But you comfort yourself with the thought that men often strip to the waist and there is nothing indecent about it. You've already seen him in this form as a child, but why does it bother you so much now and seem so wrong?

You need to stop this.

You've spent hours watching guys your age, trying to awaken those emotions that should torment a girl's heart when looking at admittedly attractive members of the opposite sex, but you don't feel anything. Just boredom.

You've also never heard of Alhaitham having a relationship with anyone. Of course, if you had asked him a question, he would have replied that he is too busy or that he isn't interested, but then what about you? Are you also not interested in relationships, or is there another reason why you can't keep up a conversation with friends who are so immersed in matters of the heart that you don't understand? The answer seemed so close, somewhere on the surface. You only have to stretch out your hand and you'll see what you are trying so desperately not to notice.

Therefore, now you try not to make noise, sneaking back to Alhaitham's door when you hear him enter his room late at night, probably tired after a hard day's work. You need to look at him again, but your heart is so restless every time you even try to imagine how you start a conversation with him. Since when did it become so difficult for you to communicate with your own brother?

You peek cautiously through the half-open door, noticing Alhaitham lounging in an armchair with a book in his hand. His long fingers cling to his black tie, getting rid of the suffocating pressure on his neck in one light practiced movement. His lips are slightly parted as your brother sighs heavily, unbuttoning the top couple of buttons on his slightly rumpled shirt before leaning back in his chair.

Long eyelashes barely touch the skin of Alhaitham's face when he closes his eyes, combing the unruly strands of silver bangs with his palm. He's really handsome, you can't deny that. But you've seen enough men that you could call beautiful, but just looking at Alhaitham causes a thrill in your chest, the nature of which you are so desperate to understand.

— How long are you going to stand in the doorway? If you need anything, come in.

Your eyes widen with fright, and your muscles seem to turn to stone, not allowing you to move from your place, when you hurriedly shift your gaze from Alhaitham's chest slightly peeking out from under the cotton fabric to the emerald irises looking at you with slight irritation.

— I, uh… I'm sorry, I don't need anything! — you almost take off, ready to run back to your room, when you notice Alhaitham getting up from his chair, approaching your confused figure.

It all happened so fast. You didn't even have time to understand anything, as Alhaitham's big hand wrapped around your shoulder, forcing you to go inside, when you heard the slam of the door behind you, to which your back is now pressed. Your brother's free hand presses into the wooden surface, enclosing you between him and the door, while the fingers of his other hand cling to the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning one by one and exposing the relief of Alhaitham's body right in front of your face.

— Wh-what are you doing?! — you turn away, blunting your gaze to the floor, trying to hide the way your cheeks instantly flushed when the pleasant scent of his perfume hit your nose.

— Huh? Isn't that what you were just looking at?

— I don't…

The words get stuck somewhere deep in your throat when Alhaitham's long fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding your hand to his chest. As soon as the pads touch your brother's skin, this aching pain comes back to your lower abdomen. He's so warm. You can feel the muscles tense under your touch, becoming even harder, you can feel his heart beating steadily, as if absolutely nothing unusual is happening right now. Alhaitham is calm, as always, carefully watching your funny reaction from his height. Your hand trembles in his grip, but your fingers lightly press on the elastic flesh, causing embarrassment to tingle the skin of your face even more.

— Do you think I don't notice the way you look at me? I always assumed that my sister was a diligent good girl, but what do I see now? — Alhaitham leans towards your ear, guiding your palm lower over his prominent abs as his hot breath touches your face. — Now you're just as spoiled as all adults.

His words make your stomach churn with fear. The way the pads of your fingers slide over every bump of his tense stomach, the way his lips are close to your face, the way Alhaitham's breathing becomes more ragged when your hand stops on the belt of his trousers, it seems so wrong, but for some reason you just stay silent, letting him do it to you. You can feel the heat rushing to the bottom of your stomach when Alhaitham guides your fingers to his groin. You've never touched anyone… there before. Even through the dense fabric, the warmth emanating from his dick touches your hand, which unconsciously wraps around the hard bulge, causing your heart to pound wildly, pulsating in your ears.

— H-Haitham, stop it, I don't understand what you want… — the volume of your voice drops to a whisper.

It's so damn hard. Your body heats up treacherously, and moisture begins to accumulate between your clenching thighs. You press against the door, trying to escape at least somewhere from the cage in which Alhaitham imprisoned you, but he sees how your legs are shaking and feels your pulse quicken, quietly grinning at how something your body tells him goes against the words that come unsteadily from your tongue.

— I don't remember teaching you to lie. Didn't you spy on me a few weeks ago because you wanted to? And that's what you came for today.

— No! I would never…

— You're too bad at hiding your desires for a girl who knows better than anyone that I'm observant enough. Can't any of your peers meet your needs, huh?

— How do you…

— I know everything I need to know. I even know you're still a virgin, but you still want me to fuck you. But it's reasonable.

— What are you talking about?! Is it okay to want something like this with own brother? — you pull your hand back, ostentatiously clenching your fingers into a fist and pulling away from Alhaitham's face, almost buried in the curve of your neck. Your brother straightens up, towering over you like a heavy shadow, now looking into your eyes, desperately trying not to break eye contact. What do you want to prove to him if your other hand is now nervously fiddling with the fabric of your nightgown, and your teeth are unconsciously biting your lower lip, trying hard to remain calm even when the fabric of your underwear is soaked with warm moisture?

— Yes, — your heart sank in your chest when you heard such a short and clear answer, uttered with a completely serious expression on your brother's face. — There's no one who knows you better than I do. It makes sense that you want your first time to be with me. Objectively, I think girls your age really find me attractive, so that doesn't raise any questions either. I don't understand why you're so puzzled, Y/N, given the fact that, obviously for both of us, you've wanted this for a long time, which means you've had time to weigh all the pros and cons since you came to me today.

His words sound like this… makes sense, but then why do you feel that your desires are so obscene? Is the problem that he's your brother? But Alhaitham is right, you spent almost every day of your life with him, shared your most intimate things with him, even if he wasn't interested, he was always there for you, and what's strange about the fact that you are... in love with him?

— I… I think I'm just confused… I need to be alone and think about this...

— There's no need for that.

The randomly scattered pieces of the puzzle finally came together in a clear picture. You can feel your brother's soft lips pressing against yours, the warmth of his palm sliding up your thigh, making its way under the fabric of your homemade shorts. And it doesn't seem wrong. It's so good. Finally, the warmth that your friends seemed to be talking about spread in your chest. When a loved one touches you, when he presses his lips to yours for the first time. Your body answered all the questions swarming in your head for you as your arms wrapped around Alhaitham's neck, deepening the kiss. So clumsily, but your tongue meets his, more insistently dominating your mouth. What an indescribable feeling.

It's so hot, it's so hard to breathe, but you want more when you pull your brother closer, and his knee settles so vulgarly between your legs, pressing into the heat of your crotch. You wanted to push Alhaitham away so as not to stain his trousers with the moisture that your shorts must have soaked through, but there was nothing you could do with how damn pleasant this friction feels caused by his knee pushing against your writhing body.

Alhaitham's fingertips hook into the waistband of your shorts, hastily sliding the soft fabric down your thighs until it crumples on the floor under your feet. A moan escapes from your chest, muffled by his lips, when you feel your toes lift off the floor, and your back presses harder against the door of your brother's room while he scoops you up in his arms, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips. A hard cock presses against your crotch through the fabric separating you from the hot flesh.

It's only when his lips finally leave yours that you realize what's going on. Alhaitham's green eyes seemed to look as clouded as yours. You've never seen him like this before. Although his face still didn't express a single emotion, something had clearly changed. Your brother is looking at you with a desire you've never seen in anyone's eyes. It's so strange, so unusual, but the only thing you know is that you like it. You like to feel desired, you like to feel his dick throbbing with another unobtrusive thrust between your legs spread for him, you like to hold on to Alhaitham's muscular shoulders like this while he hastily unbuttons the belt and zipper of his trousers, then pushing aside the lace fabric of your underwear.

The hot head of the cock slides up your slippery crotch, covering the base with sticky moisture. Even without looking down, you could feel with your own body how impressive Alhaitham's dick is. If it weren't for the intoxicating pleasure caused by the delicious friction of his throbbing erection, you'd probably be terrified even at the thought of him entering you. But there was another good reason for your calmness. You know your brother will never hurt you. Perhaps he was right again, as always. You only want him because no one will take care of you like Alhaitham is.

Your throat is bursting with moans that you are desperately trying to hold back so that your parents on the ground floor won't hear you, and it gets even harder when you feel Alhaitham's cock slowly begin to stretch you, sinking inch by inch into your warm insides.

— You're damn tight, Y/N. I'm even flattered that you saved yourself for me.

— Haitham, stop embarrassing me! — you whisper loudly, barely managing to cover your mouth with your hand when his hips meet your ass in one sharp thrust. It… hurts a little, but how perfectly his cock filled your insides. You can feel the blood pulsing in the veins running along the base of his hard organ while he remains motionless, causing your walls to involuntarily contract.

— Why are you confused by such simple facts? I find such emotions inappropriate when my cock is already inside you.

— Just… move… — you look away, tightening your arms around his neck.

— Hm-m? You got used to it so quickly, it's commendable, — you feel Alhaitham's dick pushing even harder into your cervix, which seemed impossible when he pressed his hips even tighter against yours.

It's so unusual to feel him so deep inside. His cock is so huge that it feels like he's forced all the organs in your body to make room. But it's so damn little. Your walls spasm around the hard flesh over and over again, wanting to feel more stimulation, which Alhaitham deprives you of just watching you squirm in his arms, and tears come to your eyes.

— Haitham! — you scream, digging your nails into the skin of the back of his head, when footsteps begin to be heard approaching the door.

— Y/N! Y/N, are you at your brother's?

Shit. As soon as you hear your mother's voice, your stomach twists painfully, and you freeze, holding your breath, casting a frightened look at Alhaitham.

The corners of your brother's lips turn up in a slight smile as he brings his index finger to his lips, motioning for you to be quiet.

«What the hell is that supposed to mean?!»

— Yes, mom, she's in my room.

You exhale with relief, seeming to understand what he meant, but your calm is instantly disrupted when Alhaitham's cock abruptly bursts out of your insides, then stretching and filling you to the limit again. Your eyes widen in mute shock as you press your palm tightly to your mouth, trying to swallow any sound that intends to escape from your throat. Your back is pressed against the door over and over again, the only barrier between the dirty sight that is happening in your brother's room from the eyes of an unsuspecting mother, while Alhaitham's hips slam into your ass with a soft thud at a rough impatient pace.

— Oh, then I'll come to you now!

Your brother is silent, not stopping for a second, further terrifying your poor pounding heart. You tremble, shaking your head in panic, trying to convey to Alhaitham without words what he himself should understand, but for some reason his lips stretch into an even wider smile when one of his palms moves to your crotch, and his fingers press on your clitoris, sending a treacherous wave through your body pleasure.

The moment it took your mother to get to the door seemed to last forever, while your lower abdomen was bursting with delicious spasms that you couldn't resist. Your back arches and your hips shake as the knot in your stomach unties. This orgasm isn't comparable to the ones you brought yourself to on your own. The heat settling in every cell of your body is so intoxicating that it seems as if you are about to lose consciousness. The walls of your vagina clenched so tightly around Alhaitham's cock, still not slowing down, that even he couldn't restrain the quiet moan that escaped from his lips while his fingers continued to massage the sensitive bundle of nerves, only prolonging this magical feeling that causes addiction.

The handle twitches, and you feel a slight pressure from the other side of the door.

— Haitham? Is your door closed?

Your mother's worried voice dispels the fog that has enveloped your consciousness.

— I'll be down in a minute, mom! Brother, n-gh… Helps me with the preparation for the test, — you needed all the self-control you had left so that at least your voice didn't tremble, sounding confident enough without arousing suspicion.

— Are you all right? You sound kind of upset...

— Yes, it's all right! Just wait for me downstairs!

It's unbearable. You are so sensitive, but your brother's cock continues to persistently penetrate you, touching all the right points in your insides to make you feel that heady heat rushing to the bottom of your stomach again, even when his hand, covered with your moisture, returns to your thigh. You can hear your mother muttering to herself before you hear soft, retreating footsteps in the hallway.

— What the fuck, Haitham?! — you snap back, weakly slapping your brother, who is apparently amused by your outburst, on the shoulders.

— You did a great job. It would be awkward if she insisted on coming in.

— Awkward?! D-damn it! — you no longer hold back your moans, desperately biting your lower lip to somehow muffle your sounds, when your hands cling to Alhaitham's neck again, gaining an even more careless and rude pace.

The door knocks softly under the pressure of erratic thrusts. Your brother's cock seemed to get even bigger and harder, stretching your tight walls almost painfully. For the first time, the soft sounds of Alhaitham's hoarse moans cut into your ears, which sound even more beautiful than you could have imagined in your dirtiest fantasies. His lips are open, and the muscles of his forearms are so sexually tense when he literally hammers you into the door, chasing his own orgasm. You don't know how it should feel, but you're sure that he's as close as you are, teetering on the edge of a high that seems to drive you crazy.

A second orgasm hits your poor body just when you feel something warm and sticky spreading in your insides, and Alhaitham's hips are pressed tightly against your ass, remaining almost motionless. He rests his head on your shoulder, exhaling heavily from his lungs as you both try to relive the intense pleasure spreading somewhere under your skin.

You barely come to your senses when you feel your brother's cock leaving your insides, and he gently lowers you to the floor, barely standing on your feet and instantly grabbing his arm to keep from losing your balance. Sticky drops of semen trickle down the inside of your thighs, and you watch in fascination as they settle on the floor, gradually coming out of a state of intoxication and digesting what just happened.

— So you need help with the test? — Alhaitham's voice sounds as cold and indifferent as usual again, as if nothing unusual has happened right now, as he takes off his shirt and slides his trousers down his muscular, seductive thighs. You give an awkward glance at his cock as he walks past, heading to the closet to change into his home clothes. How did he fit in you anyway…

— Very funny… — you adjust your underwear, awkwardly trying to pick up the cream drops from your feet before you see your brother handing you a napkin. — Thanks.

Alhaitham silently turns away, pulling a T-shirt over his magnificent body, and you are mesmerized by watching him now at a close distance, and not hiding behind the door of his room.

— Listen… You're going to move away from here, aren't you? Well, someday.

— Huh? Why do you ask? — your brother turns around, looking at you through slightly narrowed eyelids. — Yes. I've only stayed in this house to keep an eye on you sometimes, but I guess my help won't be needed anymore.

— Take me with you! — you grab the soft fabric of his T-shirt, looking up at Alhaitham with a pleading look.

— Ho-oh, I didn't think you didn't like to be here so much, — your brother crosses his arms over his chest, taking in your petite figure with an appraising glance. — What if I ever get into a relationship?

You're sulking, hastily pulling your hand away, about to just leave, when Alhaitham's big palm touches your jaw, pulling your face down for a kiss. Now your beloved brother's lips are touching yours not with the same desire that they touched the first time. Is he kissing you now… tenderly?

As soon as his lips leave yours, you feel your face turn red again when your gaze meets his cold aquamarine eyes.

— If that's what you want, I don't mind.

[callsign-rogueone]

one for the books - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x Scribe!Reader part of my Valentine’s Day Celly (better late than never?) words: 1.7k (got a little carried away here, oops) 🏷: IRON FLAME SPOILERS. scribe reader who is referred to as a woman one time, and has painted nails, but no pronouns used. just some meet-cute fluff with reader and Gare. love at first sight. it's weird writing him with anyone other than Angel, but I hope y'all will still like it anyway 🥺

Garrick wanders through the rows of bookshelves in search of someone who actually knows what they’re doing, so he won’t have to spend the entire day looking at the titles of every book in this massive library.

It doesn’t take long for him to find the only scribe who’d come with them to Aretia: Violet’s friend, Jesinia, who had helped them sneak into the Archives to get the journals. Who happens to be Deaf. He hadn’t thought about that part. 

He waves a hello, racking his brain for the letters of the alphabet and spelling out his request at a snail’s pace, hoping he’s moving his hands correctly. I… n-e-e-d…

Jesinia takes pity on him, holding up a hand to stop him and darting back into the maze of shelves, leaving him standing there thoroughly embarrassed -- he really needs to add “study sign” to his list of things to do after this whole wyvern thing is resolved and Tyrrendor is freed again. Whenever that will be.

He’s expecting her to come back with a pen and paper, so he can write it down, but she emerges thirty seconds later with another scribe in tow, one he’s never met before -- the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

Jesinia gestures to you with a soft smile, and leaves.

He blinks once, twice, taking you in.

You’ve taken some creative liberties with the uniform, wearing the beige scribes’ robes open with a plain shirt and pants underneath, the hood down to expose your face and hair, a pair of glasses perched atop your head and a clipboard in hand, your nails long and painted a pale pink -- a few of them have started to chip, but it’s endearing; comforting to find a tiny flaw in an otherwise perfect presence.

You’re equally entranced. The fortress is crawling with riders -- you’re one of maybe five students here who are anything else --  but this one in particular makes your heart race. 

It’s as if the gods pulled a knight from the pages of one of your fantasy novels and dropped him in front of you in this library; broad and tall, muscled and tattooed, two longswords strapped across his back… he’d be intimidating without the nervous smile on his face and the blush dusting his cheeks, the afternoon light coming through the windows and making him glow.

“How can I help you, Lieutenant?” you ask after a moment, hoping you don’t sound as flustered as you feel.

The scar running down the side of his face moves as he speaks -- more quietly than you’d been expecting. “Riorson sent me; he wants everything you have about wards.”

You blow out a nervous breath. “Okay, uh… I’m still not totally sure how this library is organized, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“We can look together, then,” he offers, giving you a knee-weakening smile.

You don’t know if you can spend the rest of your afternoon with this man and not make a complete fool of yourself, but you’ll just have to try your best. “Sounds like a plan.”

You realize you don’t know each other’s names, having been too busy staring at each other to make proper introductions.

“Garrick,” he offers, extending a hand to shake.

You’re really supposed to refer to him as Lieutenant, since he’s graduated and you haven’t, but you still repeat the word softly, trying it out. “Nice to meet you, Garrick.”

He already owes Xaden Riorson his life, but hearing you say his name, feeling the softness of your hand against his… he decides he’ll be in the boy’s debt well into the afterlife, too.

“I’ll start on one end, you on the other, and meet in the middle?” you ask. “Anything with wards, magic, or protection in the title would be a good start.”

He hums in acknowledgement, heading down to the end of the row.

“I haven’t been in here in ages,” he admits, scanning the rows of shelves for anything that could be useful. “I lived most of my life here before the revolution,” he adds quickly, explaining.

Small talk is good. You can do small talk.

“It must have been interesting growing up in a fortress like this,” you respond, too shy to ask him for his likely incredibly-tragic life story outright, and you’re technically on the job right now, so you should be focusing on the task at hand.

He picks another volume off the top shelf, keeping his feet flat on the ground and barely having to stretch for it. “It was. There were a few dozen of us kids around, always underfoot and meddling. We used to play hide and seek in here, and see how long we could stay before the scribes found us and kicked us out.”

You laugh, a sound he doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing. You may be a librarian, but you’re the polar opposite of the typical strict and stiff scribes he’s used to -- young and lovely and not afraid to laugh and talk among the books, to let them hear your voice and know that they’re appreciated. They’re lucky to have someone like you watching over them.

Since you’re grasping at straws here, you decide to cast a broad net and pull down anything that could be even a little bit helpful -- and you’re finding more than you’d thought, likely because the Tyrrish basically invented wards. 

You really should have brought a cart, but it’s no issue for him -- he’s holding at least ten thick volumes at once with complete ease.

“I got it,” he offers, shifting the tall stack he’s amassed into one arm and taking yours with the other. Seeing a man like him with an armful of books is hotter than it should be. Everything about him is hotter than it should be.

He sets the stack on the nearest table, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of a chair before he sits down.

Your eyes linger on the relic winding around his arm like a plume of black smoke, contrasting against the pale muscle. You know it was intended as way to mark them as the descendants of those who had committed treason, to set them apart from their peers and to force them to enroll in the rider’s quadrant, but he looks like he didn’t have too much trouble in his days at Basgiath, if the two dozen patches on his flight jacket are any metric.

It suits him. He’d look incomplete without the relic and the thick scar on the side of his face. It would be rude to ask how he got it, but the curiosity still tugs at you. You want to know everything about him.

You realize you’re staring, and pull your eyes away as quickly as you can manage, worried that he’ll think you’re judging him -- though you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t on his side.

You each take a book off the top and crack it open, scanning for anything that could help. “Did he say anything more specific? Or why he needs this?”

“Nope. But he’s always been vague and mysterious, even when we were kids, before he had all those shadows following him around.”

“I’ve only seen him twice, but that sounds accurate.”

It’s his turn to laugh. “He may be all cold and broody all the time, but he’s a good guy. I’ve always considered him my best friend.”

You’re thinking of the best way to keep him talking when Jesinia knocks on the side of a nearby shelf to get your attention. Done with my transcribing. What’s next?

Thank you. You can leave for the day. 

Jesinia gives you a sly smile. You don’t want help? Or do you just want to be alone with him because you think he’s handsome?

She’d told you that Garrick’s sign was rusty, that he could only fingerspell, but you still turn away from him as you respond, praying he didn’t understand what she just said. 

Two can play at this game. I’ve been meaning to ask, how is that redhead boy who keeps coming by to talk to you? I’m sure he’d like to see you for another sign lesson tonight.

She reddens, realizing you know about her crush on the rider, and bails out of the conversation while she still can. Goodnight!

There’s that lovely laugh again as you turn back to him, seeing him watching you -- now you really hope he didn’t understand. He quickly returns his gaze to the book in front of him, which definitely isn’t modern Navarrian or any of the other languages you know. It must be Tyrrish.

“You can read this?” you ask with rapt curiosity, leaning forward to take a better look at it.

“About every fifth word or so,” he answers. “There aren’t many fluent speakers left, since it was outlawed decades ago and kids aren’t taught it in school. I don’t see the symbol for “wards” anywhere, but that might be too obvious.”

“No language should ever be outlawed,” you respond, perhaps a little too hotly. “There must be so much valuable information that was lost in translation or destroyed entirely after the wars. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to become a scribe, to try to save as much as I could. But so many of the texts in the Archives have been translated over and over, and I can’t help but wonder if some things were left out on purpose.”

Another smile. “Well-said. Into the “maybe” pile, then?”

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment as you realize how long you’d been talking. “That’s the only pile we have,” you sigh, stretching. 

He’d shown up around four, and it’s nearing seven now, your body automatically responding to the hour and telling you to pack things up, but that’s one of the nicest things about the library here -- unlike the Archives at Basgiath, you can work here through the night, and not be booted out at seven on the dot.

You’d asked the Lieutenant Colonel about it when he’d come by one day, and he’d told you there wasn’t any sort of magical time-sealing-lock on the library, just a normal wooden door charmed to be fireproof -- so you’d stayed in one of the armchairs until midnight reading, just because you could.

“Well,” he offers, “I know it’s a grave sin to eat in the library, so how about we take a break, get ourselves some dinner, and pick this back up after?”

Smooth. Very smooth.

“I’d like that,” you answer, your heart fluttering. “I’d like that a lot.”

[team-iceflower]

Ruby: I am sneaking broccoli into the Mac and cheese so our children don't know they're eating vegetables! That's what parenting is all about. Helping your children, through lies.

Weiss: Well, not just your children.

Ruby: Hm?

Weiss: I've been sneaking vegetables into your waffles for years now. Since way before we were even married.

Ruby: ...What?

Weiss: Haven't you ever wondered why your syrup had seeds in it?

Ruby: You said they were maple seeds.

Weiss: Yeah... there's no such thing!

Ruby: I have literally never been angrier at anyone in my entire life. Walk away Weiss.

Weiss: Okay bu-

Ruby: WALK AWAY, CHILDREN, ATTACK YOUR MOTHER!!

Baby Summer and Snow: *giggling and tackling Weiss*

[slytherinshua]

DOODLES

genre. fluff. warnings. kissing. pairing. so mun x fem!reader. wc. 900.

“No peeking!” So Mun scolds, holding his sketchbook even tighter to his chest to make sure there was no way you would be able to glance at his sketch. You huff in defeat and go back to your own drawing which is looking more and more lopsided as you keep trying to capture Mun’s perfectly sharp jawline and fail.

“I’m butchering your handsome face, just so you know.” You mumble, grabbing your eraser for the hundredth time. At this point the drawing looked more smudged than legible and you were close to giving up.

“Good thing you have the real deal right here, then.” Mun replies smoothly, and you glare at him from over your sketchbook making him giggle. 

You wonder how he hasn’t even touched his eraser once as you watch him still making little details on his drawing with ease. You know he’s been drawing his whole life and his drawing skills are on par with his fighting skills, but you know he hasn’t had much time to draw apart from composition sketches. You were glad you suggested doing this doodling session with him. It was cosy and relaxing and definitely what you both needed to get your mind off the stress of everything. 

You’ve never had anyone draw you before, but you’re glad the first one to do it is your boyfriend. He’s only been drawing for 10 minutes, but you’re starting to get a little impatient to see the results, and so you attempt at sneaking a peek again.

“I said no peeking.” He stops you without even looking, catching your hand in midair before it can reach his sketchbook. 

“When will you be done with it?” You ask, and So Mun hums in response. “Baby.” You whine.

“I’m almost done.” He looks up to smile at you before resuming his pencilling. “Are you done yours?”

“I guess… It’s not getting any better so I decided to just leave it.”

“Can I see?” Mun peers over to take a glance and you hand him the open sketchbook. “Aww, you added a heart.” He smiles widely and you swear you can practically see his eyes sparkle.

“It’s so bad, though.” You mutter, cringing at the way you had messed up his proportions. 

“I think it’s cute.” Mun smiles again.

“I get to see yours now, right?” 

He nods and hands you the sketchbook finally, and your eyes land on the drawing. Your breath is quite literally taken away and you spend the first few minutes just staring at it, taking in every detail, every stroke of pencil. And a warm sense of comfort comes with how you just know that every mark of that pencil was created with so much love behind it. You can feel it.

“So…?” So Mun asks expectantly, blinking at you.

You open your mouth to give him a response, but then pause as the wind slightly blows the page of the sketchbook, giving you a peek of more drawings on the previous page. Curiosity takes over and you flip it, revealing an entire spread of you.

There’s a small drawing of you sipping a bubble tea, and you recognize the exact day it’s from given your outfit. You had stolen So Mun’s leather jacket on your lunch date that day, and he had even drawn in the little hair clip that you had worn.

Looking a little lower on the page were countless more drawings. One of you blowing a kiss, you with a kitten, several of you just smiling, and even one of you sleeping which you immediately suspected he had drawn while you actually had fallen asleep.

“Were you ever going to show me these?” You ask, blinking back tears because they’re all so beautiful and you adore each and every one of them.

Mun panics, “I- I wasn’t not going to show these to you?” His response sounds like he’s questioning the fact himself and you tsk quietly, flipping over to the next page only to find even more drawings.

“How many times have you drawn me without my knowledge?” You question, utterly bewildered at just how many drawings there are. With every page you flip, there are more, and soon you discover that the entire sketchbook is filled with just you. 

“If you weren’t my boyfriend this would be so creepy, you know?”

“Do you think it’s creepy?” Mun asks.

“No, it’s probably the cutest shit anyone has ever done for me.” You say in a complaining tone which makes So Mun laugh. You tackle him in a hug, kissing his cheek as many times as you can before he pulls you off of him in a fit of giggles. 

“I’m glad you like them because to be honest it’s become a stress reliever to draw you.” Mun admits, melting your heart easily.

“You’d better show me next time, or I’m going to go snooping through your stuff just to find your sketchbook.” You threaten and So Mun nods with a smile before reaching over to kiss you. 

He always kissed you softly, like you would break if he put too much pressure into it. Now was no different as his plush lips moved against yours, lifting up into a smile when you pull away. And his smile is so infectious and filled with so much love that you can’t help but to smile back.

↳ k-drama taglist: @yeonjuns-redhair,, @wolfmoonmusic,, @cha3w0n-hearts (abp & tuc only),, @tempobaekh (tuc only)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Same as it ever was 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as neglect, bullying, manipulation, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Between your home life and work, you just can’t catch a break. Especially after you draw the ire of your boss.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen ft. Pete Brenner

Note: Oh my, we be sad gurls and bois.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

When Pete rumbles with snores, you move to the couch, hoping for what little sleep you can summon. You can't lay there beside him knowing what you know. You can't steam in the spite of knowing that he can sleep just soundly while sneaking around.

Two wrongs can never make right. You're not absolved. Far from it. You're mad. At him. At yourself. At life.

As you drift in and out, the apathy comes. You can't care. If you let yourself feel, you'll fall apart. You don't have that choice. Someone has to hold it together for the kids.

You get up first, like most mornings. You're restlessly impatient to get the day started if only to get away from that house. From the husband who isn't much of one.

Simone and Malik sit at the table eating cereal as you check your phone. You're on track so far. As if fate is throwing you a soft ball, the morning is going smoother than ever.

You get the kids packed and in the car. Every step is taken on habit alone. You walk them to the school doors and wish them a good day. Then you go back to your car and idle in silence. You're empty, you have nothing left.

You make yourself pull out and join the snailish roll of traffic through the school zone. Your drive to work is over before you know it as you stay locked in a trance. Before you just went through the motions, now it's like you're a ghost, floating aimlessly from one place to the next.

You enter the office, the walls a blur in your vision as you find your way blindly to your desk. Your head is pounding. Amid your early morning scramble, your desperation for distraction, to think of anything but reality, you hadn't even had a coffee. Your entire being throbs from the caffeine withdrawal.

You cup your forehead as you boot your computer. Eventually you'll get up and grab a cup of the weak break room brew. You lean heavily on the armrest of the chair and wiggle your mouse. 

For once, you're thankful to be at work. No fighting kids, no laundry, no scoundrel husband. But you're there and it's just as hard to live with yourself. 

"Morning, sunshine," Mr. Hansen's booming tone has you careening back in your chair as he comes to lean on the corner of your desk, "aren’t you bright-eyed and bushy tailed. Long night, huh? Husband finally loosen you up a bit."

You give him the daggers. That look that says 'enough'. Your motherly chagrin blazing at full force. He winks and laughs as he taps the end of your nose.

"You're real cute when you're pissed off, you know that?" He puts a hand on his hip, smoothing his index and thumb of his other across his mustache.

"Mr. Hansen," your voice is gravelly with dry fatigue, "is there something I can do for you?"

"Well, I can think of a certain wakemeup," he snickers, "but I'm thinking that you're not really into it. Still, you look like you could use it."

You huff and turn your chair to glare up at him. Can't he bother anyone else? He had his fun, he humiliated you, he made you hate yourself. So what else does he want?

"If you don't mind," you push your chair back and stand, "I'm going to get some coffee."

"Oh, sounds fun," he shoves away from the desk and trails after you, surprising you as he stretches and arm across your shoulders, "this company shit, it's garbage. How about I make you my own personal brew? I got a keurig in my office, just got some French Vanilla–"

"No thank you," you grumble and pull away from him.

You enter the kitchen first as he continues his incessant pursuit. He likes Malik when he wants to tell you about his legoworld. You go to the machine and find the carafe empty. You rinse it and fill the tank.

"You're mad about yesterday," he says as he leans on the counter, "if you're into snuggling, you coulda stuck around–"

"No," you growl as you measure out the coffee grounds.

"I let you go take care of the crotch goblin so I thought we'd be square–"

"Mr. Hansen, it's not you," you close the lid and flip the switch, "really."

"Ah, got it, it's the hubby. He's not taking care of his marital duties, huh?"

"Please, sir, it's not… it's not that," you falter as the lie sticks on your tongue. "Tired, need coffee."

"You look like you need sleep," he shifts closer as you stare at the slow trickle of coffee, "tell you what," he lowers his voice, "you come in my office, give me a good tug and I'll let you sleep in a meeting room. How's that? I'll make sure you get your eight hours."

You open the cupboard, taking out your mug from the bunch of mismatched porcelain, and set it on the counter. You can't even look at him. Not only because he repulses you but he reminds you of how pathetic you truly are.

"I'm good," you insist, "thank you, sir."

He scoffs, "I'm giving you something you're not getting elsewhere. Action and sleep," he runs his knuckles up your sleeve, "beggars can't be choosers, can they?"

You look at him. You're so fucking exhausted that your eyes are too dry to eke out a single tear. It's the only thing keeping you from tipping over the edge.

He smirks and looks at your blouse, reaching to pinch one of the front buttons, "look at that, all put together."

You glance down at the misaligned buttons. You don't even care. You're a mess. You're old and used up and unwanted. Even he only wants to get off, it doesn't matter who does it.  At the end of the day, he'll be just as happy to do it himself.

You're speechless. It's nothing like shock. It's exasperation. Are all men really like this? Is this what Pete does? Is she some girl at the company?

"Forget it," you take your empty mug and spin in your low orthotics.

You stride out and stumble to your desk. You can do this. You just have to get through the day. And then what?

Get the kids, go home, cook dinner, do homework, bath time, bed for them, clean the endless mess…

Tomorrow? The same thing, over and over, until what? Until when? When do you admit defeat?

Hansen struts out of the breakroom. You look up as you see him sipping from a mug; your mug. He meets your gaze as he drinks deeper and passes by.

You wonder the same thing about him; when will he give up? 

🗄️

You feel yourself slumping lower and lower. Your eyelids are scratchy and burning as you fight to keep them open. You cup your chin in your hand, elbow planted on your desk as the emails blur before you. You can do this… 

In a minute, you’ll get up and get a coffee, undisturbed, and really start working. You won’t fall asleep. How could you? Right here in your office chair. On the best nights, you can barely sleep in your own bed. Lately, it’s only been bad nights.

Once you find the energy, you’ll get up. You swear you will. It’s all you have to look forward to. That cup of coffee. You can smell it. You know it’s burnt by now, stale and bitter, but your stomach growls for it.

A few more minutes.

You hear snorts, strange noises that seem to rumble from within you. The clacking of keys and soft clicks continue, almost forming a rhythm as your screen ripples to bars of colours. You feel a weight over you and a sudden shift.

You hit the floor, bouncing on your ass as your seat hits your shoulder. You look up as you awake, only realising then that you dozed off. You blink at your coworkers before focusing on the figure glaring down at you. Mr. Hansen has a hand in his pocket and a foot on the bottom of your chair. Shit.

“Working hard,” he muses tritely.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stutter, disoriented. You can’t believe you fell asleep. You hope this is just a dream, if so. “I… I didn’t–”

“Get up,” he demands.

You scramble to get to your feet. You reach for the chair and he kicks it further away. You’re overly aware of your audience. No one will look directly at you in fear that they might draw Hansen’s attention, but it’s obvious by the lack of typing that they are very aware of the scene.

“I’m very sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to. I was– I’ll stay awake. You don’t have to worry.”

“Go home,” he says curtly.

“Home? No, I can make it through the day. It was a mistake.”

“Go. Home.” He repeats pointedly, “this isn’t a hotel.”

“Please,” you murmur, “please, Mr. Hansen,” you clutch your hands together, trying not to speak too loud, embarrassed as your voice cracks, “I–”

“Don’t make me call security,” he warns as he steps back on one heel, his posture victorious. He arches a brow in challenge. You’re certain he’d love to see that, you dragged out like an intruder. “Come back Monday, well-rested, and HR will deal with your disciplinary report.”

“What?” You gulp. In all your time there, you’d never been written up. Not once.

“Keep digging that hole.”

“Okay, okay,” you go to your desk and open the drawer to pull your bag out. You hook it on your shoulder and turn around, nearing him as you reach for the coat hung on the back of your chair. He watches you with a smug smirk, “I’ll be back Monday.”

“We’ll see.”

His ominous words put you on edge. You recoil and stare at him. What does he mean by that? You’re not stupid enough to ask. You put your head down and march out, burning with embarrassment as you pass your rapt audience.

“Hey,” Hansen claps his hands, “back to work.”

🗄️

You barely make it home. You set an alarm as you get in the front door and collapse on the couch. You don’t care that it’s lumpy and uncomfortable, you don’t care about anything. You forget all your worries for the blackness that clogs your mind.

As quickly as you close your eyes, your ringer goes off. You wake with a groan and roll over, shoulders cramped and stiff as you reach for your phone. Two o’clock already. Your head pulses with the dregs of fatigue. You feel marginally better.

You fill a travel mug and head out to pick up the kids. Along the way, you can’t help but shrink behind the wheel as the morning pricks in your mind. You don’t expect things to go well on Monday.

You pass a Burger King and slow down. You don’t have the money for a Whopper. No, that’s not what you’re thinking. It’s not spending you’re planning on.

You pull in and get out. You enter and approach the counter, sheepish as a twentysomething greets you from the other side.  You smile as you come forward.

“How can I help you ma’am?” He asks, hands on the side of the till.

“Oh, uh, I was… I was looking for an application,” you eke out. “For a job.”

He nods, you see the surprise flick in his lashes, “oh, well, we don’t have physical applications anymore but…” he reaches over to a stack of small flyers beside the till, “if you scan this QR code it will take you right to careers page.”

“Um, right, yeah, makes sense,” you take the slip as he offers it, “thank you.”

“You lookin’ to order?” He prompts with a strained smile.

“No, sorry, I gotta go get my kids,” you fold the flier and turn away, “have a good one.”

You head back to your car. You drop into the driver seat and curse. Fuck, your hips are killing you. You don’t imagine doing weekends standing behind a till will do much for that but you don’t have much of a choice. Even with the second job, you doubt you’ll be able to pay for the babysitter to cover it. What a stupid idea.

You shove the flier into your purse and back out from between the lines. You check the time as you set out to the school. You arrive just as the bell rings and the kids are let out into the yard. 

You find Malik with the other grade ones as Simone seeks you out on her own, too cool to hang around with the other grade sixes. She can be a bit of a loner but not in a sad way. She can intimidate even you.

“Hey, how was school?” You ask as you take them to the car, “did you do anything fun?”

Malik tells you about the popsicle stick houses they made as you buckle him into his car seat and Simone does up her seat belt on her own. You nod and smile, humouring your son’s slightly lisping story.

“What about you, Simone?” You ask as you look over at her.

“I just read. I’m almost done number four,” she shows the cover of her latest fantasy series, “but they wouldn’t let me stay in the library during recess.”

“Good, you need the fresh air,” you tease, “speaking of, I was thinking we could go for a hike this weekend. How does that sound?”

“A hike?” She grimaces, “is dad coming?”

“Err, we’ll see,” you shrug, “I spend all day in the office, I’d like to get out before the winter gets here.”

“I’ll go if dad does,” Simone opens her book, “it won’t be any fun without him.”

“Daddy, daddy,” Malik claps his hands, “I love daddy!”

“I’ll ask him,” you nod and keep a frown from tugging at your lips. 

You stand straight and gently close the back door. You round to the driver’s door and get it, quiet as you turn the engine. You’re not even good enough for your own kids.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

I'm back and still a nervous wreck!

I had the stupidest idea and wanted to know what you thought.

For X-Men evolution because I think it fits best there

Reader who wholeheartedly believes in conspiracy theories, reader who doesn't believe mutants are real even when they themselves are one believing that instead the government made up mutants as a lie to genetically enhance people and get away with it. Wiping their memories and leaving them to fend for themselves, they wholeheartedly believe that their memory was altered (when in reality their mutation just mentally messed them up, think like their body releases toxic gasses or something like that readers been breathing it in since they have no control over their mutation and it makes them smell strange one of the many reasons why they have no friends)

So reader goes to the same high school as the X-Men/brother hood but not with either groups from the start, this strange quiet and weird smelling child who rambles about conspiracy theories and while their theories are... Unique they aren't hateful of mutants so the X-Men don't really notice them they blend into the background mumbling to themselves and forgetting where they put their hoodie (it was on the back of their chair)

Reader gets sent to the principals office a lot due to the way they act causing raven to get closer to reader their charming attitude and slightly messed up speech and memory issues making raven into the first platonic yandere eventually having the brother hood keep an eye on them.

I imagine reader sticks with the Brother hood while also not being a part of them just rambling forever about bigfoot or area 51 and the brother hood don't have the heart to tell this strange child that got held back a grade their weird like so many others have.

And when Kurt shows up the X-Men become platonic yanderes Kurt letting them ramble to him during one of the only classes they didn't share with toad at the time (I can never remember when characters in X-Men evolution get introduced I only have a pirated version that takes forever to start so it isn't worth setting up an entire thing just to watch one episode) and so Kurt goes back to the X-Men talking about his strange new friend who Jean and Scott remember seeing around the school, so with interests peeked they start looking into this teen, a teen who's parents never come to parent teacher conferences a teen who has been known to be very good at forging signatures on permission slips doing it for extra cash, a teen whose address is missing from official paperwork thanks to raven and a teen who always comes to school in dirty clothes a teen who doesn't have a phone and uses the library computers, and showers at a 24 hour gym every other day.

And so slowly one by one this child sneaks their way into their hearts and into adoption papers.

I'm writing this as someone who had lived in a house for a majority of my life that was filled with mold I was allergic to my mom promised it wasn't black mold but now I'm realizing it probably was I slept with my head inches from it for years it messed me up in the head, some of the side effects were "mold rage" that's really what it's called and memory issues I kind of used this as a way to vent about what happened in my life, I really didn't mean to do that I'm really sorry you can ignore this if you want typing it out just made it better and spinning it into a fun story was even cooler.

Thank you very much, a nervous wreck of an Anon.

No, no, it's okay, don't worry. I'm sorry you had to experience that, Anon. While I didn't deal with mold, I did once or twice, when I was younger, have a bad hallucination, which I didn't understand, and I believed a few things that seemed crazy (but looking back on now, was caused by stress and trauma). It isn't easy to have your mental health or perception messed with, and it isn't funny, either. (So yes, to anyone reading this ask/drabble, do not ever make fun of or try to trigger a person who has something like Anon or I mentioned. It is NOT, and I MEAN, NOT FUNNY AT ALL.)

Okay, let me see what I can do for you, Anon, maybe call you 🐝Bee or 🐝Wasp Anon? Or maybe 💛 Anon (Yellow Heart Anon)? Let's try this new mutation out-

• Reader is the sort of person who thought everything had a secret to it. The government? Was run by lizard people or aliens, or had a secret organization who experimented on people. Area 51? Definitely held aliens and maybe eldritch nightmares, and possibly secret evil projects to take over the world. Bigfoot and yeti and dragons? They were all real, they hid in the forests, and were probably nicer than most humans Reader knew. And school was designed to indoctrinate children from an early age, all because of what happened in ancient times, which was overthrowing the king and queen and chopping off their heads. So. Yeah. They they had a lot of ideas.

• They had so many ideas and ways of saying them that their teachers usually sent them to Principal Darkholme, whom wasn't nearly as bad as some people made her out to be! Sue certainly did yell at Reader; no, she just let then ramble for a bit while she looked through their papers (and maybe spied on someone, because this lady can't just be a principal), and gave them a weird look. Not a bad one, no! Just well, not mean but not happy but not annoyed either. Something that made her tell them to come to her if there was a problem, and that some of her students would start taking classes with them.

• Reader liked these new kids! This one guy looked like a toad or frog, and he smelled a bit funny too, less like propane or like the house was in danger, and more like swamps and leaf litter. Maybe he was a frog person! That would be cool! Unless the government caused this, and now it's not so cool and they need to get kicked in the ****... Oh... they can't say that... Oh well. This Peter? Piro? Pietri? guy is really fast and talks a lot too, and doesn't seem to mind showing them all his hobbies, even asking if if have any they want to share with him! Woo, another person to hunt small bug dragons and look for fae with! The giant one is kinda cool, like, he seems unmovable and unbreakable! Is he part whale? Part rock? Part demigod?! Whatever he is, he's strong, and is gentle with them like he is with the Toad guy. The shaky one (he isn't a rock, but he insists he is more rock-like than shaky, which is nonsense) seems to keep people like Duncan and his posse away, so he's pretty chill! And then there's the witch, who's magic and is so awesome and is really red. Maybe she's like, a chaos witch? That would be interesting... maybe she has a coven Reader can try to join...

• Those five let them talk and even chip in their ideas, but then start insisting they're mutants, not magic, or aliens, or government experiments. Reader points out they wouldn't remember that part. That just earns them an odd look, somewhere between sad and worried, but they're back to rambling since they don't need to worry about their friends not knowing certain things. It's okay not to. Reader can't remember certain things either, and they don't always say things how they want to say them, and they aren't wrong for being that way, so their friends aren't wrong for not knowing either.

• They gain a new friend, who turns out to he a blue fuzzy elf. He's funny, and German, and Reader is certain he is part angel, because he's that nice. He talks with them, even shows them his powers, and asks what Reader can do. And Reader laughs, saying they don't really know... He looks at them, says he knows someone who can help, and that's how Reader meets his friends (or family. They seem like a family). Their professor/dad says they're all gifted, and so is Reader, but Reader says that they haven't noticed anything so far. The man says he can read minds, and Reader asks if he can read theirs... The man nods, goes quiet... and he seems to panic, his eyes going sad in the corners and his gaze a bit haunted or winded. The others notice, but Reader doesn't know what's wrong... They're asked to visit them every day, so they can get to know one another, as friends do, and Reader agrees, happy to have more friends!

• It's so odd, meeting so many new people! They've finally gotten everyone's names memorized (it took a few weeks, but it was worth it!) There's Principal Darkholme, who also crossdresses as Mystique (cool, she can change colors and shapes!) There's Todd or Toad, their friend they share classes with and who smells a little weird and is a toad person. There's Pietro and Wanda, twins, who both look very different from each other, like opposites. Lance is the shaky guy who walks them to and from places, and Fred is who is there as back up in case someone gets too close. Kurt is their fuzzy elf friend (who must be part angel), and who smells like sulfur from time to time. The Professor is sweet, if a bit authorative, and tries to make them tea and discover their power. Jean and Scott are two older students who both seem to like the colors red and green and yellow, and they both start driving Reader to where they need to go. Kitty is the one in pink who seems to go phase through things, like some Twilight Zone person, and Rogue is the one in green and black who can do anything. There's also Logan, their old-but-not-old guard/dad man, who growls a lot and smells like leather and seems worried about them. Storm is a goddess, who controls winds and rain and clouds and lightning and snow and sunshine (she's so cool!). And Hank is their friends their dad, who likes science and listens to Reader's theories and tells them someone once thought he was Bigfoot (Reader laughs, and asks how that went, and that Hank couldn't possibly be Bigfoot! They're both entirely different beings, that's absurd!) These people are so nice! They even share food with them! And go to the park! And go to the library!

• The others have tried to convince them they're mutants, not government experiments or aliens or magical beings or demigods, but Reader isn't entirely convinced. How could mutants exist? Wouldn't they look super different from everybody? Or be welcomed? And if not, then everyone is just being a ****... they still can't say that... Oh well. They've tried to argue with them, but each time they cut it off before they start sounding choked up or angry or worried. Reader hopes they're okay. They don't like seeing them upset, and they really, really are trying to do the right thing. They just wished it wasn't so hard on everyone.

• The Professor calls them over one day, saying he's finally figured out what their power is. Reader chuckles, saying they've talked about it before, and that Reader can't have powers. He says that no, he knows what it is, and that they need to sit down. So they do, because they won't argue with him when he seems excited and scared. And he tells them that they emit a toxic gas or fume or mist, which causes hallucinations or ilillusions to those who breathe it in or absorb it. He says they do what they do and act the way they act because for quite some time now they've breated it in nonstop. They're quiet, and they feel worried, and they ask to go home. They don't sleep that night, too scared to go to sleep, too scared to turn off the light, too upset to stop thinking about what might be true or false...

• Their friends don't stop talking to them, but they don't want to talk a lot for the next few weeks. It's hard, and feels hard, and they don't want to think even more about how everything could be a lie and it's all an illusion and how it could be a trick- There's just too much to do, homework to do, reading to attempt, home to go back to, and not enough safety to be blank and to stop thinking for once...

• They call in sick for a few days. They stay where they live, with its old walls and decaying floors and smell of old rot and wood and metal, the creak of the boards and squeaks of the hinges making Reader jolt and jump like they've touched a livewire. Their head hurts now. It hasn't stopped hurting since the Professor told them about their... power. They haven't slept well since then either, the few times they slept full of nightmares, their nights full of tears, their mind struggling to understand why this was happening to them and why it couldn't make sense...

• Principal Darkholme visits them, so does the Professor, but they came in while they'd been in a fitful slumber. Waking up, muttering to themself, weaving into the rooms... they saw them, worried it wasn't real, and were soon being looked over by two worried adults, asking if they're okay, if this is their home, where are their parents, do they need help- And all they can do is let them bring them out of the old place, ending up at one one their homes, where they're given a tea to drink, and they try to settle...

• They soon are told they can be helped. That the adults will be giving them something to take, that it will help them, and they don't want to take it- but they end up having to, because it ends up either taken willingly, or it's slipped into their drink or food, and all they can do struggle as their mind starts experiencing something that feels like a pick trying to shatter it in two... It gets better over time, and for once, they can feel a bit... calmer. Like they're seeing things from a new perspective. And now they aren't sure what to do, with the new thoughts swirling in their head, the new feelings, the new abilities...

• Toad or Kurt or Rogue is usually with them. They keep them company, they make sure they took their medicine, and call the others when Reader starts to panic or feel overwhelmed. Sometimes it's okay, and Reeader can calm down on their own. Other times, their illusions and hallucinations effect everyone, and they have to call the Professor or Jean to walk Reader through shutting it down. They struggle to sleep at night, afraid of monsters in the dark; it leads to Evan or Kitty or Kurt usually throwing a sleepover in your room, hugging you, even promising you'll be okay, that you're strong, that you're safe... Mystique always let's you know it's her, no matter what form she is in, and she makes sure she's there if you need someone someone ground you or keep others away. Hank still does checkups on you, but he never calls you crazy or thinks you're weird, he just smiles at you and says everyone is different, but you're all human, mutant or otherwise, and that it's not an anomaly or wrong to go through what you go through, as it isn't wrong that he's fuzzy and blue, or that Toad smells a bit, or that the Professor can't walk. It's all a part of life, and they're so glad you're experiencing it with them...

(I hope I did this okay, Anon. I did my best, and tried to convey this the best I could. And folks, it is okay to struggle with things like this. You're still human, you are valid, and you matter. Please try to get help if you can, and take care of yourself, okay? You're you, and you're loved💛)

[withleeknow]

to build a home.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; lowercase intended, a tiny bit suggestive, unedited bc i'm me word count: 0.5k note: my first skz/minho fic !! i haven't written fluff in forever and i have never written for anyone beside bts so i am so embarrassed rn lmao 😭 but anyways here's a babie drabble to test the waters ~

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

home isn’t always a place. sometimes, home is a person.

you don’t want to call someone your home, because people can change and people can leave you behind.

if it were up to you, you would never make a home out of him. but you had no say in it. you couldn’t control the fact that he would come into your life and get under your skin, almost like he was always meant to be with you. like it was all cosmic realignment how he would make you feel the most loved that you have ever felted in your whole life. like the universe decided to go easy on you for once, like it said “this one’s for you.”

because you can’t deny that there’s a kind of celestial warmth in the way his arms wrap around you and hold you in his embrace on winter nights, and summer nights, and every other night in between. he stays cuddled up with you until the sun comes up and paints the entire sky with the most beautiful splashes of pinks and purples and golds. and when you try to quietly slip away from him to start your morning, he would tighten his arms around your frame, a harmless frown pressed against your neck where his face is hidden.

“minho, i have to get ready,” you’d say , chuckling lightly as you do, your fingers threading through his fluffy hair.

to which he’d reply, sleepily, stubbornly, “just ten more minutes.”

you can’t deny that there’s heaven in how he kisses you, with his hands delicately holding your face, with all the love he has to offer. you aren’t religious, but you could make a religion out of the feeling you get when he showers you with devotion through his kisses. the tingle that simmers in your belly, the warmth that slowly spreads all over your ribcage as you get lost in your overflowing adoration for him. you’d gladly fall to your knees to worship that feeling forever.

you’d giggle when his hands sneak off elsewhere - rewarding you with a touch that can’t possibly be considered innocent - and he’d whine adorably, because even a split second away from your lips seems to last a lifetime.

“love you,” you’d appease him, watching as a blush would creep up from his neck until it adorns his cheeks with the prettiest and rosiest flush.

“love you too.”

you can’t deny the wonderful magic that is his mere presence - your best friend, the light of your life, the one you love the most. you don’t know how he does it, how he manages to make your world infinitely beautiful just by existing in it. your minho, your only love. he holds up the sun and he hangs the moon, he’s everything that matters to you.

you used to push back, used to resist this utterly obvious fact, but there’s no use in trying to refute it anymore. he’s your home. the greatest comfort you have, the safest place you’ve ever known.

and you hope he always will be.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 28.10.2023]

[blaisenova]

ermmmm like i dunno if you're still doing requests buttt could you do like kustard but it turns to dustard

that dynamic always interested me but i never see much about it :3

anon, has anyone ever told you that you're a genius?

the kustard to dustard pipeline is WOEFULLY UNEXPLORED. WHICH SUCKS BECAUSE IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD. so, naturally, i was REALLY excited when i got this ask. yippie!!! an excuse to write fun fucked up dynamics!!!!!

this one is pretty tame. i can't think of any warnings you might need other than it being like..... long and, obviously, kinda angsty. it's fluffy in the end tho. but that's what you get when you ask me to write i guess LOL

thank you all for the requests btw!! i was NOT expecting so many after the kist fic, but i am pleasantly surprised and am trying to chip away at them as quickly as i can. spat this one out in a few hours, so it might not be my best work, but i'm happy with how it turned out either way :)

as always, the link to this fic on ao3 will be in the reblogs once it's posted, if that's your cup of tea (as it is mine LMAO)

i hope this feeds you well anon. thank you for the ask <3

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was undeniable that the multiverse was an entirely cruel and ruthless place.

Or, at least, that was what Red had wholeheartedly believed up until he’d met his other self, in a universe that was so very unlike his own. A universe where the typical LOVE of any given passerby was nothing higher than 1; where Sans and his brother were kind to one another in public; where there was so little need for the royal guard that the worst Sans got for sneaking off to Grillby’s during his shift was a slap on the wrist. It was difficult to believe that a place like that could exist – that it could be self-sustainable, since, logically, their weakness should have led to their downfall – and even harder to look at it as anything more than a childish fantasy that had yet to find its catch.

Initially, Red hated Sans. 

It felt ridiculous, looking back upon it – in the moments when his head lay in Sans’ lap and gentle fingers traced over his scars like they were poetry written in a language Red had never bothered to learn, and he wondered what Sans saw in him that he hadn’t seen; wondered if this was what it felt like to love himself – but it was the truth. It had taken him a while to understand that the circumstances in which they’d grown were enough to turn them into two different people; that hating Sans wasn’t so much like hating himself, or what he could have been, as he wanted it to be.

Really, Sans was so unsuspecting that Red had been foolish enough to let his guard down, forgetting that then was when feeling was the most liable to appear. 

He hadn’t expected to fall in love with the laugh – genuine, unabashed, and lacking all of the gruffness of his own – of someone whose humour was just as terrible as his own.

He’d been far too blind to realise how incredibly endearing it was for someone to wake up and allow themselves to be bleary and half-asleep, cuddling into his arm without even meaning to, even if it meant opening themselves up to being easily picked off.

In allowing someone into his blindspot that he’d believed to be too weak or foolish to use it against him, he’d failed to remember that it was the softest words that cut the deepest, when they would bleed him dry so tenderly and lovingly that he couldn’t even think to fight against the bloodloss; when, instead, he’d lean into the knife and ask them to twist it. The wound was soul deep, and the soul’s wounds could not be so easily ignored.

Though, it was a small price to pay to hear that raucous laughter over jokes that weren’t even funny. Trivial, really, in comparison to soft smiles and gentle touches that moved slowly just to prove to him how tender the world could really be.

“Earth to Red.”

A soul for a soul; a life for a life. They gave one another all of themselves, promised each other that it was enough, and it was. For once, it was, just to be soft.

“Come in, Red.”

There was gentleness in the multiverse, hidden until it was allowed in.

Tiredly, he bat away the hand that waved in front of his sockets, only to grab it by the wrist and pull it back down, firmly, on the crown of his skull. With a laugh, the fingers scratched gentle circles into the bone, and Red hummed happily at the feeling, allowing his sockets to slip shut as he lay against Sans’ legs.

“Where’d you go, space cadet?”

“Nowhere,” he grumbled, sighing softly as he fully relaxed into the touch. “Must’ve dozed off.”

Again, there was that laugh, and Red’s soul fluttered. “With your eyes open?”

“It’s a little known talent of mine,” he hummed.

“Gee, must be handy,” came the response, and amusement never sounded so beautiful. “You’ll have to teach me sometime.”

“Nuh uh,” and he couldn’t stop himself from snorting. “It’s genetic.”

“Ah, damn. Guess we gotta add that to the list of differences.”

“Guess so.” His breath hitched as the hand on his head trailed downward to cup his cheek. His browbones furrowed, ever so slightly, and he felt himself go tense.

“Hey. Look at me.”

After a moment, Red opened his sockets, and there was no sight more welcome than the face of his lover. Each time he saw him was like the first, and Red drank in each of his features as if they’d disappear at any moment: smooth bone, unmarred by chips and cracks; eyelights that glowed softly in dark sockets, like how he imagined fireflies might; ever present, gentle smile that smoothed away his worries. Oh, to be so untouched by cruelty. He’d do anything to keep it that way.

“‘Sup,” he breathed, and Sans’ smile widened as he snorted.

“‘Sup,” he returned. His thumb ran circles over his cheek, and Red leaned into the touch. “You okay?”

With a snicker, he rolled his eyelights at the question. “Super duper.”

Despite himself, Sans laughed too, but, still, pressed on. “You sure? You were spacing out pretty bad before. Like, way out in deep space,” he emphasised, unnecessarily. “No planets around, just stars. Way beyond our galaxy. Uncharted territory. Where no man has gone before.”

“Alright, alright, I get the picture” Red interrupted, though not without chuckling. “‘M okay. Was just thinking.”

When Sans’ head cocked to the side, Red couldn’t help but grin. “About?”

“Uranus.”

At first, his sockets simply narrowed, confused, then all at once, “Ura– Oh. Alright, perv. Har har.”

But, he was laughing, and Red was, too, like it was the funniest joke in the world despite it not even being funny. Maybe it didn’t matter, if Red was the one to say it; if Sans was the one to laugh. Maybe, then, it could be good, even if it wasn’t, really. The sound of their laughter, something shared and sacred, was what Red imagined it might feel like to hear the birds chirp when the sun rose and turned the sky whatever colours it was supposed to when it drove the night away. He hoped that it was blue, like Sans’ favourite colour, but the pictures in his textbooks were too faded to be sure.

When he tuned back in, the laughter had tapered off.

“You do that a lot, y’know,” Sans noted, almost absentmindedly, and his hands turned back to trailing shapes on Red’s skull.

He grunted at the feeling. “Do what?”

“Go to space,” Sans said, simply. “Or… somewhere else. That I can’t reach.”

Red frowned, closing his sockets to cut off the dull thrum of agony he felt in his soul whenever Sans’ smile didn’t reach his eyes like that. “I do it less than I used to. It used to be better, somewhere else – anywhere else – but ‘m not so sure anymore.”

“Where would you wanna go?” he asked, in a whisper. “If you could go anywhere. Anywhere at all.”

For a moment, Red considered. The answer would have been easy before – the surface, of course. Where Paps and every other monster longed to be – but access to the multiverse had opened up options that he’d never known existed. If he could conceive of a place, it surely existed, somewhere. Any place. Anywhere. Anywhere at all. But, if kindness was so thoroughly hidden, why should he want to look for it anywhere else?

“Think I’d rather just stay here,” he hummed. “With you.”

Maybe he should have questioned the way that Sans’ hands stilled at his answer. Maybe he should have opened his eyes; looked at his face; seen his expression; known what it meant.

But, he didn’t.

“Geez,” Sans breathed, with a laugh that sounded breathless. “My answer feels stupid in comparison.”

“Yeah? What’s yours?”

“Anywhere else. Anywhere at all.”

In hindsight, Red should have known it was too good to last; too good to stay good.

A universe where the typical LOVE of any given passerby was nothing higher than 1; where Sans and his brother were kind to one another in public; where there was so little need for the royal guard that the worst Sans got for sneaking off to Grillby’s during his shift was a slap on the wrist. It was difficult to believe that a place like that could exist – that it could be self-sustainable, since, logically, their weakness should have led to their downfall – and even harder to look at it as anything more than a childish fantasy that had yet to find its catch.

Of course, there was a catch. 

There was always a catch. Every childish fantasy grew tainted with time, like the innocence of children was stripped with age. Every fairy tale book grew weary and old, pages yellowed and frayed. Every picture faded, until you couldn’t be sure whether the sky was blue or grey.

But, you hoped it was blue anyway, and maybe that was your mistake.

It was undeniable that the multiverse was an entirely cruel and ruthless place. That was what Red wholeheartedly believed. Maybe, after all, there was a reason that love and LOVE were spelled the same.

Try as he might, though, Red could not hate him.

It felt ridiculous – in the moments when hands clamped around his neck like a vice, choked by the grip and the grief that came with it, as if the two were one in the same, and they would both cry, both tremble in fear, or fury, or something worse, and Red would think that this was what it was like to hate himself – but it was the truth. It had taken him a while to understand that the circumstances in which they’d changed were enough to turn them into two different people; that hating Dust wasn’t so much like loving himself, or what he could have been, as he wanted it to be.

Really, Red had underestimated Dust as he had been before; had assumed that kindness meant the incapacity for cruelty.

And, in allowing someone into his blindspot that he’d believed to be too weak or foolish to use it against him, he’d failed to remember that it was the softest words that cut the deepest, when they would leave scars so deep that all he could think of was how much he missed the feeling; when he’d search for the knife and throw himself against it. The wound was soul deep, and the soul’s wounds could not be so easily ignored.

Before, he’d thought it was a small price to pay. Trivial, really, in comparison to what he had to gain from it. As if it were a simple transaction as opposed to something living, and breathing, and ever changing; as if he would never have to be the one who was tender; as if that made it anything less valuable.

“Red.”

A soul for a soul; a life for a life. They gave one another all of themselves, promised each other that it was enough, and it was. Just as before, it was. Harsher now, but Dust had taught Red to be soft, and Red would teach him what he’d forgotten.

“Red.”

There was gentleness in the multiverse, hidden until it was allowed in.

With a jolt, he came back to reality to a slap on the face, not hard enough to hurt, but more than enough to be startling. He frowned, but, nonetheless, took his hand by the wrist and guided it to the crown of his skull. Hesitantly, as if spurred on by some muscle memory, the fingers ran in gentle circles across his bone, and Red hummed in approval at the feeling as he lay against Dust’s legs.

“Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere,” he mumbled, unconsciously leaning into the touch. “Must’ve dozed off.”

“With your eyes open,” Dust said, and it wasn’t a question. “Freak.”

Immediately, Red snorted. “Guess we gotta add that to the list of similarities.”

Despite himself, Dust laughed; the sound short, subdued, and nothing like the laugh he’d fallen in love with, but something about it made his soul flutter, nonetheless. “Guess so.”

After a moment, Red opened his sockets. Each time he saw him was like the first, and Red drank in each of his features as if they’d disappear at any moment – as they had before – smooth bone that crackled and buzzed with magic, refusing to be underestimated; eyelights that glowed brightly in dark sockets, like how he imagined neon signs would on a city street in the middle of the night; a face shrouded by shadow, as if it was saved for him alone to see. In the end, he’d been marred by cruelty despite Red’s best efforts, but he was beautiful nonetheless.

“‘Sup,” Dust mumbled, and the edges of his mouth quirked up in an attempt at a smile.

Slowly, Red lifted his hand and, ever so gently, cupped Dust’s cheek, pausing when his breath hitched, but, with the same caution, Dust leaned into the touch; barely enough to be noticed, but Red noticed. This time, he saw. “‘Sup,” he finally returned. “You okay?”

“You’re going to disappear,” Dust whispered, and his voice broke on the words in a way that made Red feel hollowed out. “You’re going to go somewhere else. Somewhere that I can’t reach. Like you do when you go to space. It scares me.”

Browbones furrowed, Red ran gentle circles across his love’s cheek, staying silent as Dust took in a shuddering breath to continue; a quirk Red had grown accustomed to.

“I remember what you told me before,” he said, and his hand came up to desperately hold Red’s to his face, like he might forget it was there if he didn’t make sure. “That you did it because it was better to be somewhere else – anywhere else. Do you want that now? To be somewhere else? Away from me?”

“No,” Red said, and the lack of hesitation in his answer surprised even himself. “I don’t want that.”

Again, Dust’s breath hitched, and he frowned, like the answer wasn’t enough, and, maybe, it wasn’t. His fingers threaded between Red’s, and, when he clutched onto his hand, Red squeezed back, holding him with desperation to match. Dust laughed, a breathless sound. “I’m not the person that you loved.”

Scoffing, Red rolled his eyelights at the notion. “Of course you are.”

“I’m not,” Dust insisted, and something about it was a plea.

“Then,” he breathed, “I love you. This you.”

And, with a breath that was cut off with something that sounded suspiciously like a sob, Dust leaned forward – over Red’s body, as if to trap him – and pressed his chest against Red’s. His ribs fluttered with each breath, and Red guided his stuttering breaths with deep inhales that interlocked their ribs with each one. His hand remained stuck to Dust’s cheek, and he squeezed gently, relieved when Dust squeezed back to let him know he was still here; in this reality, not another.

“Breathe,” Red commanded, soft; soft, like he’d been taught. “I’m here.”

Dust took a heaving breath – deep, frantic, like he’d been drowning – and, in a voice that sounded so much like before – reminding Red once more that this was the person he loved, despite the change – he whispered, “Where would you wanna go? If you could go anywhere. Anywhere at all.”

The question made him sputter, for a moment. Then, with a breathless laugh, “Seriously?”

“Please,” he pleaded, so what could Red do but answer?

The answer would have been easy before – here; here, just like before – but, despite how they fought against it, things had changed. Did that mean his answer had to change? That his longing had to shift, too? The multiverse was infinite. If he could conceive of a place, it surely existed, somewhere. Maybe even somewhere that Sans stayed Sans, but would it be the same? Any place. Anywhere. Anywhere at all. But, if kindness was so thoroughly hidden – had been ripped from Dust’s grasp with the signature ruthlessness of the multiverse – then why shouldn’t Red be it? Like Dust had been for him, before.

“Think I’d like to stay here,” he hummed. “With you. Still.”

And, this time, Red noticed the way that Dust’s breathing slowed to a stop; felt the way that his magic crackled between his joints; how something wet slipped between their fingers on Dust’s cheek; knew what it meant.

“Okay,” Dust whispered.

“What about you? Where would you go?”

There was a pause – a moment as Dust inhaled once more; held Red’s hand tight, but oh, so gentle – before he managed to answer. “Here,” he said. “With you.”

[bloodhoundluke]

i like thursdays

pairing: luke hemmings x booktuber! reader (fc: steph bohrer) description: y/n is a booktuber and and y/n starts to fangirl over luke. things take an unexpected turn and luke starts to become a regular visitor in y/n's youtube channel.

a/n: thank u so much @alonetimelover for the inspo! i really loved your harry styles x booktuber! reader smau, so i wanted to do a luke one myself 🫶 and special thanks to @gladexmuses for always supporting my work! i appreciate it immensely 🤍

yourinstagram

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yourinstagram you'll never catch me without a book… swipe to the next slide for a sneak peek of whose book recommendations i am reading atm...

and the last slide is my mood currently bc one of those books keeps breaking my SOUL 🥲 i'll upload it on thursday as usual. so take a guess who the celebrity is in question! here's a few hints: blonde, singer... 🤫

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ynfan95 thursdays are my fave bc of u 💞

ynfan304 A LITTLE LIFE?? is that someone okay??

yourinstagram 🥹🥲

ynfan241 TAYLOR SWIFT???

ynfan382 sabrina carpenter??! or niall horan???

ynfan095 LUKE HEMMINGS FROM 5SOS?

yourinstagram

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yourinstagram it's thursday & u know what that means...i uploaded a new video ❤️‍🩹 some of you guessed but...i read books that Luke Hemmings has recommended and that man has definitely faced the things he turned away from...the link is in bio <3

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yourinstagram and hey remember that i won't upload new videos for the next two thursdays since i am on a holiday! see u soon though 🫶

twilightmomentswithlu 'that man has definitely faced the things he turned away from...' LMAOOOO

iknowitwellcal Did you listen to WFTTWTAF?

yourinstagram yes. and it broke my heart in pieces. it was everything.

iknowitwellcal Favorite song?

yourinstagram bloodline or saigon 💔

lukesredline23 the taste is IMMACULATE

ynfan405 You sobbing to every book was a mood honestly

yourinstagram i mean...how could you not???

5sos.updates

Liked by calumsshoes, ynfan934 and 2,963 others

5sos.updates Luke talked about the user readwithyn's YouTube video in Zach Sang show which 5sos attended. In case you did not know, Y/N did a YouTube video where she read every single book Luke has ever recommended. Luke revealed that he now has the 'reading bug'.

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pookieluke poor lu got so flustered :( <3

tooyoungtoodumb5sos "I mean, why would anyone read what I've recommended?" I AM CRYING 😭😭

paintedheartonthesidewalk the man needs a confidence boost for real

disconnected!5sos i absolutely died when zach asked if luke had slid into her dm's and he looked so CONFUSED poor man!!!

redlinelrh I need to know if he slid into her dm's or not 🤯

pookieluke i mean it's luke, if he did, he would have reread the message 10000x times and then sent it :(

redlinelrh Or another option is that the boys encouraged him to send the message???

yourinstagram

Liked by lukehemmings, ynfan23 and 62,495 others

yourinstagram i've found my sweet escape when i'm alone with you

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ynfan29 You're so beautiful 😭❤️

ynfan203 Someone has been listening to 5sos I see 👀

yourinstagram yeaahh, i'm obsessed with their entire discography 😮‍💨🫶

lukehemmings A good taste in books and music. Also sorry for ruining your life

yourinstagram you're forgiven if you keep releasing bangers after bangers

lukehemmings We're doing our best!

ynfan45 what is THE luke hemmings doing here????

ynfan91 OH MY GOD Y/N CONGRATULATIONS!!

yourinstagram 🥹🥹💞

lukehemmings

Liked by yourinstagram, ashtonirwin and 390,384 others

lukehemmings On the road

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emotionalblenderluke i'm living for the converse content king

tears!5sos Luke reading Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo was not in my 2023 bingo cards 😳

yourinstagram you're the prettiest man i've ever seen

lukehemmings Any tips to make me prettier?

yourinstagram nope...just do you!

liked by lukehemmings and 240 others

yourinstagram

Liked by lukehemmings, ynfan203, and 71,483 others

yourinstagram i traveled all the way to LA see 5sos play. and it was so worth it 🥳🌹💖

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lukehemmings Glad you enjoyed it 🤘🖤

yourinstagram i mean...how could i not?? thanks for the entertainment 🥰

lukehemmings Of course! Did you have a favorite song?

yourinstagram oh gosh....i loved caramel and vapor!! and ofc ghost of you 🥺🫶 and teeth!! u have too many amazing songs just to pick one

liked by lukehemmings and 204 others

ynfan034 OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THIS COMMENT SECTION!!!!??!

yourinstagram

Liked by lukehemmings, ynfan986, and 89,213 others

yourinstagram i woke up. and went back to bed. this is 3 hrs later. and now i'm late

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ynfan304 you are such a mood honestly

lukehemmings 😳😍🔥

yourinstagram 🥹🙌🏼

ynfan875 You're so gorgeous it's unfair

jbhtilthedayidie Luke is simping and I can't blame him 😮‍💨

5sos.updates

Liked by calumsshoes, ynfan934 and 2,963 others

5sos.updates Luke seen before tonight's show!

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bloodlinelrh who is that with him?

5sos.updates We're trying our hardest to seek information, but at the moment we have no clue. Might be a friend, cousin, whomever who we don't know! The options are endless.

besideash such a cutie ☹️💞

lukehemmings

Liked by yourinstagram, ashtonirwin and 359,421 others

lukehemmings I like thursdays

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calumhood Cool

ashtonirwin Thanks for the information Luke, I really needed it

michaelclifford i swear you didn't like thursdays before, what changed?

lukehemmings 🫣

yourinstagram 🤩🦋💖

yourinstagram

Liked by lukehemmings, ynfan203 and 94,297 others

yourinstagram i had the holiday of my dreams <3 since it's over, it means that i'll upload a new video on thursday ☺️ see u then loves!

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ynfan056 OH MY GOD Y/N ARE YOU DATING SOMEBODY AND WE DIDN'T KNOW????

ynfan64 THIS!!!!!

ynfan575 y/n in her lover era 🌟❤️❤️

yourinstagram this is actually the cutest thing ever ☹️💞

ynfan293 Can't wait for the new video <33

lukehemmings

Liked by yourinstagram, caramelcal and 345,843 others

lukehemmings So rad

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slsp5sos34 IS THAT Y/N?? ARE MY EYES LYING TO ME??

ynfan92 There is no way that isn't Y/N???

visceralfeelings I mean Luke’s caption on his last pic would make sense if it was Y/N?

howfarisfar LUKE WHO IS THAT??? LUKE I SWEAR TO GOD WE'RE HAVING MINOR PANIC ATTACKS OVER HERE

yourinstagram

Liked by lukehemmings, ynfan126, and 102,963 others

yourinstagram 🔉🔉 it's thursday! my 2nd ever day in my life vlog is now up! hope you like it :)

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runningbackto5sos LUKE HEMMINGS WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE????

ashtonirwin Had such a fun night! Let me know when you're hosting a wine night again 😎

yourinstagram of course! loved having you :)

lukehemmings I watched it. And liked it 🤩

yourinstagram yay 🥳

5sos.updates

Liked by mikeysguitar, ynfan201, and 2,963 others

5sos.updates A screenshot of Luke and Ashton in readwithyn's vlog!

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ashtonsunshine Fanfiction brought to life

ynfan39 oh my god i think y/n and luke are together???

oscodefender i hope they are :((( y/n seems like such a sweetheart

hemmingscinema It was so weird to see them just casually hanging out with people and giggling in some vlog?? ughh I just love them?? I hope we see more of them in Y/N's vlogs 🤭

yourinstagram

Liked by lukehemmings, ynfan203, and 155,451 others

yourinstagram u guys have been bombing me with questions. so here's an q&a for u little munchkins (with a very special quest) 🧸❤️‍🩹 the link is in my bio!

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nitswmike You picking Lover of Mine as one of your fav 5sos songs is the reason I trust you

yourinstagram hehe thankss!!

babylonluke You should rank 5sos songs next

yourinstagram omg yes!! lover of mine defo didn't belong in the B tier???!

y/s/nownsmyheart I love you and Luke 🥺❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

yourinstagram 🥺❤️

lukehemmings

Liked by yourinstagram, 5sos and 469,467 others

lukehemmings The secret's out. Please go and watch Y/N's newest YouTube video 🥰❤️

View all 2,677 comments

ynfan309 You need to film a video of you reading together PLEASE

lukehemmings Sounds like a plan? @ yourinstagram

yourinstagram i'd love that!

ynfan12 couple goals 😍

crystalleigh oh god you are adorable!! 💖🫶🏼

ynfan395 i'm coming for your girlfriend 🥵

yourinstagram

Liked by lukehemmings, y/s/n.islife, and 199,535 others

yourinstagram my fav everything 🧸🌟🎸❤️

View all 523 comments

caramelcal Y'ALL I NEED AIR

ynfan23 too cute 😭😭😭

ashtonirwin You two beautiful souls

lukehemmings And my favorite everything ❤️

yourinstagram ily 🫶

lizhemmings Wow, a beautiful picture

yourinstagram thank you ❤️

yourinstagram

Liked by lukehemmings, ynfan203, and 194,435 others

yourinstagram A SURPRISE VLOG! 🌟 we read 6 books that ultimately shattered our hope in the humankind. there's not enough words in the world to describe the journey we went through...i hope you enjoy our rants though, the link is in the bio as always <3

View all 574 comments

lukehemmings Never reading those books ever again

yourinstagram preach 🙌🏼

karma5sos i need someone to read books with too :( even if they are horrible ones

almondmilkhunni literally i have never giggled as much to a youtube video than i did to this lmaooo, love u 2

yourinstagram thank u so much, i'm glad u enjoyed it lol 🥹🥰

michaelclifford i've never heard luke being so passionate about books wth??

lukehemmings I'm a changed man, pal

yourinstagram @ michaelclifford just wait until he starts to analyze books when the tour continues 😉

calumhood Oh jeez, can't wait for that one

© 2023 bloodhoundluke.

[cherrycocaineee]

35. Joker - Safe With Me

*Warning: I’ve incorporated characters from both Gotham and Suicide Squad. Mention of Violence. Abuse. Legal Age Gap. Whatever else is considered a warning.*

Synopsis: After one of the most intense beatings she’s ever experienced by her father, Paisley runs away; only taking a pre-packed backup with her and ditching her cell. Not wanting to go to the Joker, afraid of what he’d do to her father if she did, she goes to an abandoned building instead. But being the property of the Joker means that he knows where she’s at at all times.

* Paisley’s p.o.v *

It was the worst it had ever been before; and even though it had been two hours since I had just experienced the most gruesome beating in my life, the pain was still fresh. The bruises formed almost immediately, and there were popped blood vessels in my eye coloring the white part red. My face was sticky with old tears, new ones adding to the mess as I looked at the mirror in my room. I hadn’t done anything wrong that warranted this type of outburst, in fact, it had nothing to do with me at all. Apparently, dad was going through some things at work that had him considering leaving Gotham; which I found out meant that he might lose his job if he stayed. He was so stressed out that he drank too much before coming home to take his drunken frustration out on me to make himself feel better.

   I moved some of my blonde hair out of my face; dry blood had crusted into my hair from the cut that it hid. My other hand reached up and touched my busted lip, wincing as I felt the sting of how fresh it was. I tried not to look at the thousands of bruises littering my body or the sharp pain in my ribs that might indicate a broken bone. The only thing I could think of the entire time I cried and looked at my wounds was that I couldn’t do this anymore, and that I deserved better than what I was getting. So I quietly opened my closet door, listening intently to the television downstairs, then grabbed my pre-packed bag out from underneath a few extra quilts and blankets. I was never worried about dad going through my belongings, I was worried about Freddy going through my things and finding stuff that I didn’t want to have to explain to him or my dad.

I didn’t plan on taking my cell phone with me, so I made sure to block the Joker’s number and hope that when I did see him again, he’d understand. I even deleted our messages so no one could go through them when they realized I was gone. I opened my underwear drawer and pulled out a wad of cash that I had been saving up from allowances. Once I had everything that I needed, I opened my window and crawled onto the extended tree limb that normally helped me sneak back in after my nights with Mister J. As soon as my feet touched the ground, I took off down the streets as quietly and quickly as I could. I didn’t want to catch anyone’s attention. All I wanted to do was get away from this man who was no longer my father.

    There really wasn’t anywhere I could go where someone didn’t recognize me; the whole city practically knew who my dad was, even the criminals knew. I’d go to the Joker later but right now, I was afraid of what he’d do once he saw me in this state. In the meantime, I dodged anyone I thought could recognize me and call home to inform my dad that I was wandering the streets of Gotham late at night. After some time, I had managed to walk my way into some abandoned building that I’d never noticed before. Glass covered every inch of the ground, mixing with the gray sand and dead grass, all of the windows were boarded up and I wondered if maybe the windows were broken on purpose when they closed down. It also could have been teenagers breaking in, similar to what I was doing. I could read the sign that was painted on the moldy bricks because it was too faded.

  “God,” I mumbled, “This is definitely how people die.”

  But even that was a better fate than being alive and beaten.

Taking a large breath, I made my way into the building. There were no lights on but the small cracks in the foundation allowed a few slips of moonlight to give me direction. In the distance, I could hear a small bubbling sound coming from a room. A green, illuminated light peeped underneath the door that contained it. Swallowing hard, I shuffled to the door and pushed it open; an eerie creek echoed off the empty, damp walls. Leading through the room was a high pavement of metal that looked wet like everything else in the building, however, surprisingly it wasn’t rusted. I placed my foot on the metal carefully and listened for anything that would indicate I’d fall to my doom. When I was reassured that it was safe, I started walking further into the room. Underneath the walkway were enormous vats of green, steaming liquid that I recognized easily; the only reason I knew what it was was because of the lesson we did in chemistry class. It was acid. I was quickly reminded of Harley’s beginning, how it all started for her here. Part of me always wondered if the Joker kept me around to fill in the hole Harley left, if he really cared about me at all or was he doing it all to help him then toss me to the side. I was afraid to tell him that, to see what his reaction would be. Would he hit me like my father did when he was angry? Would he just leave me? Would I ruin something that I considered perfect in its own way?

    I eventually made it to the edge of the path and peered down at the rolling acid beneath me. I remembered telling Mister J that I didn’t want to end up diving into a pit of acid and becoming the new Harley, and he had been okay with it but I still wondered if that were the case. Sighing gently, I sat down and let my feet dangle over the edge. The drop looked further than it probably was, like if I was peering down at the mess beneath me from a tower. More tears slid down my cheeks and I buried my head into my hands as I started to sob uncontrollably like I had at home.

Time seemed to speed by while I sat alone, crying and wallowing in my own self pity. When I was officially cried out, I wiped all of the tears away as well as the small amount of snot bubbling at the end of my nose. I was so preoccupied that I didn’t notice the door opening or feet approaching me until I had a feeling someone was standing behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, sending a rush of fear rolling through my body. I was afraid that my dad had found me here and that I would receive more than what I’d gotten earlier. But that fear was tossed out the window when I heard the Joker’s voice.

   “What do you think you’re doing?” He hissed, angry by the fact that I had blocked his number.

 “I just needed some time to think,” I whispered, never making eye contact with him so he couldn’t see my face.

  “You blocked my number,” his breathing was huffier, angrier, “Is that your way of telling me you’re done with me?”

  That time, I couldn’t even form the words to explain myself. All of the emotions resurfaced as I began to choke on sobs again, covering my mouth to quiet them to no avail. Mister J kneeled beside me, gripping my shoulders hard and forcing me to look at him. His eyes were cold and hard, dangerous and calculating; probably all of the ways to kill me. Then they softened and relaxed when he saw the condition I was in.

  “I had to leave,” I cried, “It was so much worse than…than before. And I had to block your number so he wouldn’t see I’d been speaking to you, in case he found me.”

 “Why didn’t you come to me, Paisley?”

 “Because I don’t want you to kill him! He’s my fa-father!”

I buried my head into the silk of his shirt, gripping the leather of his jacket while more sobs escaped. Drool started gathering onto his shirt creating a wet stain but he didn’t say anything. Instead, Mister J wrapped his strong, thick arms around me in comfort while brushing my hair with his fingers. When his fingers found the blood tangled in my hair, he froze but still kept whatever was brewing in his head to himself. Once again, I felt cried out so I pulled away, wiping away the drool and tears from my face as well as his shirt, at least the best I could.

  “I sh-shouldn’t have blocked you,” I croaked, “but I didn’t know what else to…to do. I’m so tired. Drained.”

  Mister J sat beside me, keeping his arm around me firmly.

 “Luckily,” Mister J muttered, his voice still rough with anger, “I know exactly how to find someone when I need to.”

 “How did you find me?” I asked, sniffling.

 “Someone I work close to saw you walking down the street with a frightened face. I figured it was because you were scared of me finding you but now that I’m looking at you, I know that wasn’t the case.”

  Mister J pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and clicked around before putting the phone to his ear. I stared up at him, wondering who he was calling right now.

 “Frost,” he said, answering my unspoken question, “Go to Paisley’s home and collect the rest of her things to bring back home. And take her dad too.”

My eyes widened and I tried to tell him no or anything else that would get him to leave my dad alone. When he hung up on Frost, I pushed him off of me angrily.

“I told you I didn’t want you to kill him!” I snapped.

  Mister J stared at me with a large grin on his face. His silver teeth glowing in the moonlight and the green, illuminating acid. I shook my head; it felt like he wasn’t taking any of this seriously. I climbed to my feet and grabbed my pre-packed runaway kit then started to leave. Mister J was quick to his own feet and grabbed my arm to keep me from leaving.

 “He hurt you and he continues to hurt you. He wants to take you away from me too, and I can’t allow that. I won’t allow that. As long as you and I are together, Paisley, you belong to me, and I won’t allow anything to happen to you like with Harley. Especially when I could have put an end to it. I listened, I didn’t go near him and I didn’t kill him like you asked but enough's enough.”

  My bag slipped off my shoulder, hitting the metal with a loud thud.

 “But I…what will I do?” I whispered.

 “You’ll come stay with me like we’ve talked about.”

 “People will come looking for me.”

 “We’ll fake your own death. They’ll think you and your dad died.”

 “What if I want to go out and get coffee or just for a walk or to pick something up?”

 “Then you’ll go with the guards so they can watch and protect you, otherwise, you’ll be with me. You’ll be safe, Paisley.”

I wiped away the remaining tears and looked up at his icy blue eyes with my own. He was watching me, reading everything he could off my face to see if I’d agree or not. How could I say no? He’d always taken care of me before, he listened and didn’t act when he discovered my dad was beating me or that he wanted to take me out of Gotham. Mister J had never given me a reason to distrust him, even his anger and the way he acted sometimes didn’t scare me because he didn’t take his anger out on me. In fact, he treated me like a princess all the time.

  I reached out and took the hand that wasn’t grabbing onto me. It was covered in tattoos and thick calluses. I led him back to where we had been sitting and pulled him down beside me. I rested my head against his shoulder and sighed. Our outer thighs touched and I kept our hands entwined with one another.

   “Okay,” I said, “I’ll come stay with you. But I swear to God, if you ever lay your hands on me the way he did…”

  No more words left my mouth as Mister J burst into laughter, the sound stretching across the room creating an echo.

  “I’m serious,” I protested.

 “I know,” he laughed, “that’s what makes it hilarious because you think I’d stoop so low as to hit someone as pretty as you.”

  “You’re so unlike yourself when you’re around me.” A giggle left my own lips.

 “Is that so?” He hummed.

I nodded.

And it was true too. Everyone knew how the Joker really was to people; he was a ruthless killer who had no problem manipulating his way out of any situation so he could get what he wanted. But that had never been the case with me; he had approached me, he asked me to be with him, and he continued to see me afterwards without asking for anything besides my loyalty. I didn’t even have to get him out of Arkham when he wound up in there, I just had to promise to come see him on the days I visited my mom and had to be with him once he got out. It was like our relationship was purely based on a need for someone to love him because he didn’t have that anymore. How he ended up falling in love with me was still a mystery but I knew how I fell in love with him. And I didn’t regret being in love with him. If Mister J swore he was going to take care of me and treat me the way I deserved to be treated, then I didn’t mind the darker side of him.

   “Paisley,” Mister J called out.

  I looked up at him and hummed in acknowledgment.

   “I love you.”

  It was the first time he had ever said that to me before. I smiled, nibbling on my bottom lip as I felt happiness erupt inside me.

  “I love you too, Mister J.”

  He climbed to his feet and held out his hand. I didn’t hesitate to take it and he easily pulled me off the metal platform. Not another word was spoken between the two of us as we left the abandoned building. And for the first time in a long time, I knew I was going to be able to sleep peacefully without the fear of being woken in the middle of the night to be punished.

 It was refreshing.

Taglist: @w4nt-h1s-d1ck @leaveitbythewave @ellatitanium @gaymistakeboi @erika-solic @weepingwitchofthewest

[rebelelegance]

Sneaking a Chance

Planet!drummer reader

Part 1 - Of Back to You Summary: An old friend calls you again. You're not sure what to make of it

SEND IN HEADCANNONS OR THINGS Y'ALL WANNA SEE IN THESE FICS. IT'S THE ENTIRE POINT OF THESEEE

A/N- Part one 'cuz I couldn't help myself. I do not own any of the characters except reader and her parents. These are fake scenarios and certain things will be tweaked a little to fit the story line.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waking up in the middle of the night was common for you.

However, waking up in the middle of the night because your ex - best friend - who was also your next door neighbor and soon to be celebrity - was calling you after almost a year of barely even texting, was not common.

You sat up straight in bed, answering the phone immediately so as to not wake up your parents. 

“Zayn?”

“Were you asleep?” he asked, the smirk evident in his voice.

“It’s 1 am Zayn! What do you think, genius?” you hissed, confused and angry that he was calling you now.

“You answered though!” 

“Fine then,” you replied, getting angrier by the second, about to disconnect when you heard him apologize repeatedly.

You sighed, putting the phone back to your ear, “What do you want Zayn?”

“Look, our drummer is terribly sick.”

“So?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. Why did that matter?

“And you can play the drums really well.”

You froze.

He was not-

“We have a week left for our first show. You think you could come over to go through it with us once?”

“Zayn, you’ve officially lost your mind!”

“If anyone can do it, it’s you! Look, just try out and if it doesn’t work you go straight back and none of this ever happened. We’ve worked really hard and we don’t want to postpone this. It’s just until our drummer’s back. I promise.”

You sighed again weighing your options. What was the worst that could happen? You could try out right? It wasn’t like you’d be accepted. And even if you were, you’d come back soon. There was only one problem.

“But my parents-”

“You have 10 minutes to get ready, we’re outside your house in a van right now. Sneak out the window like you used to. We’ll drop you back before 7.”

You cursed under your breath, a smirk making its way to your face.

Zayn had always been the one to help you escape your house when you needed to, and plans like these made it feel like old times.

“Alright. I’m in.”

You hung up, quickly jumping out of bed to change into jeans and a top. 

As you got ready you couldn’t help the giddy feeling of seeing Zayn again that rose in your chest. You’d barely spoken to him or texted him since he’d joined the band. You knew that he was going places in life that you could never follow, but it still hurt because you two had been inseparable before.

You tied your hair up in a pony, when a sudden thought hit you.

You weren’t just gonna meet Zayn.

You were gonna meet Liam, Louis, Niall and Harry too.

You froze, staring at yourself in the mirror. 

“Holy shit,” you muttered, grabbing a few essentials and putting on your drumming gloves.

You opened the blinds to find Zayn standing a bit away from your window, grinning when your face appeared behind it.

You smirked, heart leaping with joy as you slid the window open, crawling out and shutting it again.

Zayn closed the gap between you both, engulfing you in a big hug, your hands around his neck as you laughed.

“I missed you,” he said, pulling away.

“Awww the Bradford bad boy has feelings!” you gasped, causing him to punch your arm playfully.

“Oh shut up!” he laughed.

You wanted to ask why he stopped replying to your texts. If he’d really missed you, why did he ignore them all?

But you shoved the thought away trying to focus on the fact that he hadn’t forgotten you atleast. 

He grabbed your arm as you both ran to the van, him shoving you inside causing you to collide with someone as jumped in after you.

“Shit sorry!” you hissed, as someone turned on a flashlight, revealing a curly haired boy next to you.

Harry.

“ ‘s fine love. We should be the ones apologizing for waking you up like this,” he grinned, adjusting himself so that you could sit properly.

You shook your head laughing, hoping the darkness would hide your pink cheeks, no one had ever called you that before, “Trust me, when you’ve been best friends with Malik for 6 years, you get used to things like this.”

The three boys in front of you grinned. “Getting up in the middle of the night to go play some songs for a band that’s just about to go on their first tour is common for you?” the boy you knew as Louis chided. “Damn mate, how many bands have you been in?” he asked, turning to Zayn with a big smirk on his face. 

You found yourself laughing with the other boys as Zayn wrapped his hand around your shoulders. You found yourself leaning in to him, the familiarness of being so close to him making the terrible last few months seem a little better.

Though you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you got selected. Or what if you didn’t? Would you lose Zayn again? 

“Awww look at you both!” Louis laughed again, causing you to bury your face in his shoulder, trying to hide the shy grin on your face.

“Shut up Louis!” Zayn laughed.

You only snuggled closer hoping you would drown everything else out and it would be just you and him, driving out to an all night cafe. Just the two of you.

But when the boys continued laughing and joking you were brought back to reality. 

It was never gonna be just the two of you again. Because he was a singer now. And you were just someone from his past. That was never gonna change.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: @jadonswhore @dollbabydeliicacies @st-ev-ie 

[the-grey-hunt]

Minovember week 2: Pets, Home, Favorite Trick

another 2/3 fill (well, maybe 3/3 if you stretch) with Jowd's favorite trick of "quick, change the subject before this conversation goes somewhere I'd have to be too honest about"

“Hey, Dad,” Kamila said. “Is Sissel ever going to grow up?”

Only an expert could have seen the faint choke in Jowd’s throat before he answered, tone entirely casual. “Why, do you need a better pet?”

“What? No!! Sissel’s the best!”

Jowd laughed at Kamila’s genuine outrage. “I’m only teasing you, cannonball.” It had been a nice evening so far, and he didn’t want to dim the mood with a discussion of why, exactly, Sissel was never going to grow older. Cabanela had come over, and Lynne had stayed after her babysitting time was over to keep playing with Kamila, and they were all gathered companionably in the living room on various rugs and comfortable furniture.

Sissel was snoozing away on his cat tree. Jowd didn’t try to get his attention; he wasn’t sure whether or not Sissel was really present. The cat’s ghostly presence tended to fade a little when he tried to sleep, in the same way it did when he took the phone to visit his other friends.

“But is he really ‘the best’?” Jowd teased some more, when Kamila pouted at him. “I seem to remember when you were little you always wanted a pony.”

“That’s not fair,” Kamila complained, slumping back to lie on the floor where she’d started. “That was before we had Sissel, and we don’t have anywhere to put a pony anyway, so I couldn’t have one even if I did want to.”

“So if we had a stable in our backyard, you’d accept a pony for Christmas?” Alma cut in, amused. 

“Mommm...” Kamila tickled Alma’s stocking foot in revenge, making Alma yelp and yank her legs up, out of Kamila’s reach. 

“Say you could have any pet in the world,” Jowd said. “Imagine you’ll automatically have everything you need to take care of it. What would you pick?”

Kamila looked sideways, put her face in the carpet, and mumbled, “A pony.” Alma shoved a pillow over Cabanela’s face to muffle his laughter for him. Lynne had no such help, and when she snorted, Kamila leaped to her feet again to put her hands on her hips and glare down at Lynne. “Well, what would you pick?”

“A parrot,” Lynne said immediately.

Kamila wrinkled her nose. “Why a parrot? They’re so noisy.”

“That’s the point, you can talk to them!” Lynne sat up, too, abandoning the schematics she and Kamila had been lying on the floor to draw together. Jowd never had any idea what they were designing, but luckily most of the plans were too elaborate to exist in real life. “And they live for a long time so they’ll be your companions forever.”

“That’s ooonly fun until you have to will your pet to someone when you’re too old to take care of ‘em,” Cabanela pointed out.

“Oh, you’re just sore from that case last month.”

Jowd knew Lynne and Cabanela had both been assigned to take care of some kind of animal hoarding situation. Why Cabanela was there for the SIU was anyone’s guess—Jowd wasn’t in the SIU, so he hadn’t asked. 

“What about you?” Kamila asked Cabanela. “If you could have any pet, what would it be?”

“Mmmm...invisible tiger,” Cabanela said, leaning back in thought. “No hairs sheddin’ all over my coat, aaand, it’ll go off and hunt by itself for its own food.”

“That’s not a real pet!”

“Suuure it is, baby, it’s an animal.”

Kamila stomped her foot. “It’s not a pet you could really have. Tigers aren’t invisible, and you’re not taking this seriously!”

“All right, all riiight. I’m taking it seriously.” Cabanela steepled his hands and fixed his gaze on the ceiling, to all appearances deep in thought. Jowd resisted the urge to sneak and tickle his foot. “...Penguin. Let me finish!” when Kamila opened her mouth. “Like one of those adopt-a-star programs where it's yours but it lives off somewhere else. It can live in the zoo where there are people who’ll take care of it properly, but I’ll come by and pet it and make sure it’s havin’ fun.”

“Because it’s black and white?” Alma asked in playful suspicion. “You’re forgetting the part where you’ll have the magical ability to take care of it perfectly well.”

“And what would yooou choose, baby?”

“That’s easy,” Alma said. “A cat.”

“Mrrup!” Sissel was there, his flame burning back into evidence like a radiator warmth on the back of Jowd’s neck, and he announced his approval. He jumped down to patter across the room, letting Kamila stroke a hand over his back on the way, and climbed into Alma’s lap to settle back down with a purr.

“See, I told you,” said Kamila. “Sissel’s the best.”

“I can’t argue with that.” And Jowd never would.